


Journey To The Past

by loveandwar007



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Childhood Friends, F/M, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 56,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8862304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandwar007/pseuds/loveandwar007
Summary: In the year 1916, the palace of Mewni was besieged by the vengeful monster realm, tearing apart both the royal Butterfly family and the Diazes, a family of loyal servants. Ten years later, rumors begin circulating that the missing crowned princess may have survived, and Marco and his father Rafael are determined to claim the Queen's reward for her daughter's return. After stumbling upon an orphan girl the exact image of Princess Star with no recollection of her past, their quest becomes a race for their lives. Especially when Toffee gets wind of the rumor and vows to destroy the last Mewnian heir.(An Anastasia AU)





	1. Prologue, 1916

“People of the great Kingdom of Mewni!” King River Butterfly’s voice bellowed through the amplifier as he addressed his subjects spilled across the ballroom, who looked up from their cocktail glasses and ceased conversing to pay attention. “As your beloved king, I want to thank you for joining us this evening for our Victory Ball!”

A cheer rose up from the crowd, a wave of sound that seemed to make the very ceiling vibrate, then fell just as quickly as River held up his hands to silence them. “As many of you are aware, our war against the realm of monsters was not an easy one, and hardly a short one. Eight years of ceaseless fighting, and I led our fearless army into battle after battle myself!”

There was a curt clearing of the throat beside him, and the stout little man glanced up at his wife, her stern icy blue eyes fixed on him as she arched a thin eyebrow. “Erm, well--” the king wavered at her glare, “Alongside my beautiful wife, your Queen Moon Butterfly. Her wielding of the Royal Wand no doubt contributed to our numerous victories.”

“That’s better,” Moon whispered to him out the corner of her mouth as the crowd applauded. River responded by giving her a slight bow and stepping aside so she could take the podium.

“My dear Mewnians, let us be thankful that we shall not have to suffer another dangerous day. That we may all sleep peacefully tonight with our families together again. Eight years is...a long time.” Her pert face seemed to soften as she scanned the crowd. “For many of your children, all they have known is this war. Including my only daughter, Princess Star Butterfly.” Moon let out a tight laugh, “Tonight is her very first ball, so do go easy on her.”

“I daresay her youthful, rambunctious energy might add a little more spark to the evening’s festivities!” River exclaimed joyfully and the crowd laughed in agreement. He glanced behind Moon, as if expecting the girl to be there. With the wide-eyed look the queen silently shot at him, it was clear she no more knew where their daughter was than he did. “Ah, well--that’s enough talk from me. Enjoy the party!”

As the band struck up once more and people milled about, River descended his step stool he used to reach the podium and returned his wife’s anxious expression. “I thought  _you_ had her.”

“Now how on Mewni could I have had her?” Moon hissed, her teeth clenched as the fuchsia diamonds on her cheeks flushed. “I have been overseeing this entire ball’s preparation!” Her eyes darting to the throne behind her, a young woman stood with perfect posture waiting to be addressed, her thick red hair tied in the back finely complimenting her light blue gown. “Angela!”

“Your Majesty?” the woman responded as if on cue, stepping forward.

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen where the Princess ran off to, did you?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” the lady-in-waiting shook her head, “Although she couldn’t have gotten far--”

A high-pitched squeal soared over the murmur of the crowd and music combined, the padding of little feet scurrying across the crystal finish floor. A little girl no more than four years old with pale blonde pigtails, much friendlier baby blue eyes and pink hearts on her ivory cheeks sailed into view with her teal skirt bunched up in her fists.

“Ah, there’s my little lady!” River called, and Moon sighed in relief as her husband scooped little Star Butterfly up in his arms and swung her around in the air.

“Daddy!” Star giggled, latching her arms around his neck. Moon smiled at them both, her first genuine smile in...well, maybe she managed one every month or so. But they had been more frequent ever since little Star had come into their lives--their one source of constant joy while so much tragedy befell their land. It had aggravated Moon to miss five months of battling by River’s side, their number of casualties peaking while she brought Star into the world. But they both cherished her above everything else on Mewni and the rest of the universe, and Star already at such a young age had the vivacity of a Mewnian princess. Even if she did--

“River, give her to me.” She grabbed Star under the arms from the king and set her down on her feet. “Star, look at your shoes.”

The little princess’ smile vanished as she glanced sheepishly down at her white previously shining patent leather shoes. They were now covered in thick mud.

“Did you track that mud all over the castle?” Moon asked softly, yet firmly.

“No...just in the front,” Star pointed with one finger to the main castle entrance as she stuck another in her mouth, nibbling nervously.

Moon sighed, praying for patience as she picked her up. “Well, you may  _not_ do any dancing tonight until you get yourself cleaned up.”

“How in blazes did _that_ happen?” River eyed Star’s muddy shoes and skirt hem with an air of shock.

“Outside playing with the Diaz boy, I expect,” Moon replied matter-of-factly as she marched Star over to Angela, whose face was red as her hair. “Take Princess Star upstairs and get a bath running. I’ll join you shortly.”

“Right away, My Lady.” Angela curtsied as well as she could with a four-year-old in her arms as she carried Star to the stairwell, rubbing her nose affectionately against hers as they both let out a giggle. Inside, she was more than a little irritated. And she had a bone to pick with a certain someone.

 

* * *

 

“ _Rafael!_ ”

“Someone’s in the doghouse,” a pastry chef laughed, and the other servants in the dining hall chimed in as the chief cook’s head jerked up, like a deer sensing an approaching hunter. He was a large man, could easily best most of the men there in a wrestling match, and yet it was the shriek of a woman who towered at a mere five-foot-two that left him quaking in his knees.

“Rafael, I know you’re here!” The cook darted out of sight behind an ice blue crystal statue of the Mewni King from three generations prior. Yet the Queen’s lady-in-waiting was on his tail like a fox sniffing out a rabbit.

“Rafael Diaz!” she barked, yanking him out from his hiding spot seconds after he found it.

“Angie,  _mi amor_!” Rafael exclaimed, a smile plastered on his face despite his nervousness. “ _Cariña, amor de mi vida_ \--”

“Don’t you shower me with your ‘romantic tongue’, you are in _big_ trouble!” Angie dragged him by the arm to a corner of the hall by the dessert table, away from prying eyes.

“What did I do this time?!” Rafael asked innocently, racking his brains trying to recall. “I’ve been as busy as you getting ready for the ball.”

“I just had to run a bath for the Princess. She had been outside playing in the  _mud_.” Angie folded her arms across her chest, narrowing her eyes. “And she wouldn’t have been out there by herself. So now Princess Star is late for her appearance in the ballroom because  _you_ couldn’t keep an eye on our son!”

“Oh...was it my turn?” Angie let out a growl, and Rafael took a step back. “ _Querida_ , I’m sorry, I really did think he was with you.”

“Well he isn’t--and now thanks to you, neither of us know where he is,” Angie said exasperatedly.

Rafael sighed, taking his chef’s hat off to wipe his brow. “I suppose becoming a father is harder than I imagined it would be. I love the boy, but he is hard to keep track of.”

“You’ve had four and a half years to practice!” Angie raised her voice again, and Rafael shushed her, glancing around at all the curious looks they were getting. “I swear I don’t know what would happen to him if I wasn’t here.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, taking her hands in his. “I promise I will do better and watch him more closely from now on.”

“Good, you can start right now.” Angie gestured with a flourish over the cook’s shoulder. The giant cake frosted in various shades of Mewni blue topped with a crescent moon was the centerpiece of the vast dessert table. Rafael had spent weeks learning how to prepare and perfect it--and now the bottom was ruined in moments by a small boy with thick brown locks and a mole on his right cheek, digging his fingers in the fluffy frosting to shove in his mouth.

“ _Ay_ , Marco!” Rafael bounded over to the cake, pulling his son away from the massive confection. “ _No eche a perder el postre, mijo!_ You can have some after the guests have eaten.”

“Marco, that was very bad, going outside today,” Angie scolded, kneeling down to his level. “You know better than to play in the mud with Star before a big party where she must look her best.”

“But I told her,  _Mamá!"_ Marco whined, stomping his foot as his mother wiped blue frosting from his mouth. “I said she would get her dress dirty if she went in the mud. I told her not to, but she still did it.”

“In all fairness, that does sound like our Princess,” Rafael chuckled, and Angie had to resign herself to the fact that he was right. She was happy Marco had found a playmate in Star, but they got in far more mischief than they should. And she was starting to think her boy was not the one initiating most of it. She smiled--well, with a rather rigid mother like Queen Moon, she could hardly blame little Star for wanting to break the rules from time to time.

Planting a kiss on the top of his head, Angie lifted Marco up in her arms and held him close. “Come little one, we’ll get your suit on. And then you owe your Mama a dance in the ballroom.”

“What about _me?”_ Rafael yelped as he watched them start to retreat through the door to the stairwell. Angie turned to face him with a sly grin.

“I believe you have some refrosting to do, Señor Diaz.”

The servants erupted in laughter as Rafael glanced hopelessly at the ruined cake.

“I suppose I deserved that,” he sighed.

 

* * *

 

“Mommy, it’s snowing!” Star hopped up and down with her little hands pressed against the glass. Moon broke away from the swirling ballroom dancers to retrieve her daughter from the window--and hail down a servant to wipe her fingerprints off. Although she had loosened up considerably since her youth at St. Olga’s Reform School, she still had a thing about dirt and lack of cleanliness. And did her daughter ever love pushing her buttons, sometimes all at once.

“Come here darling, there’s a lot of people you still haven’t shown your pretty dress to yet,” Moon said in an effort to appeal to her, taking her hand and steering her back towards the party guests.

“Can me and Marco go play in the snow,  _please?_ ”

“Marco and _I_ ,” her mother corrected her. “And perhaps tomorrow, it’s gotten too dark now.”

“He doesn't like the cold,” Star continued to babble as Moon led her to the elevated thrones. “So I told him I’d make him like the snow because you can make snow angels, and snowmen, and ice skate, and--”

She stopped short and Moon turned to look at where she was staring. The Royal Wand glinted in its case from the multicolored lights of the chandelier, the sparkling blue diamond atop it transfixing the little girl as she bounded over to it.

“Star, no,” Moon stated loudly, making to grab her hand, but too late--Star had already pressed her entire face against the glass case. “That is an absolute, one hundred percent _no_. The Wand is not a plaything.”

“Can't I just hold it?” It wasn't an impatient request, as Moon had come to expect from her, but a simple earnest inquiry, coupled with wide excited blue eyes gazing up at her in wonder. “Mommy, you fought the monsters with it, right?”

“Yes dear, I fought them for a long time with that Wand,” Moon replied, a sense of pride welling within her as her daughter looked at her like she was the center of the universe.

“I wanna fight the monsters!” Star proclaimed, latching onto her mother’s skirt as she beamed up at her. The pink hearts on her face, passed down the Royal family bloodline, had started to glow in her elevated excitement. The queen’s heart froze: It was the first time she had seen a hint of Star’s inner power, the inherent magic within her. And rather than fill her with pride, the stoic ruler had grown frightened.

“Oh my Star, I hope you never  _ever_ have to.” Moon felt her icy barriers melt as she dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around Star. “It was terrible. Many people aren't here tonight because of them. I cannot imagine the same fate befalling you, precious.”

“So…” Star was a bit worried at the tears sparkling in the corners of her mother’s eyes, but pressed on. “So I can’t have the Wand? Ever?”

“Someday you will,” Moon nodded, running a hand over her blonde head as the light glowing in her face receded. “I received the Wand from my mother when I was fourteen. Perhaps then, you will have grown enough to wield its power. It’s not just for fighting monsters, but for assuming responsibility for the protection of all of Mewni.” She cupped her hands around Star’s face tenderly, stroking the hearts on her chubby cheeks. “Do you think you can wait that long?”

“I guess so,” Star shrugged, rocking restlessly back and forth on her heels. Moon was grateful that they had gotten off such a heavy topic. And her daughter, like most children her age, was paying more attention to the next subject that caught her fancy, namely the glittering gowns on the ballroom floor.

“I beg your pardon, my Queen, but is there anything else you need from me this evening?” Moon turned to see Angie having freshened up for the ball, her otherwise neat skirt wrinkled on the left side where a young boy was clutching at it, hiding shyly.

“No Angela, that should be all,” Moon stood from her crouched position, assuming her default prim and proper stature, “You enjoy yourself tonight.” She peered down at the boy who shrinked away, intimidated by the tall slender monarch. “Don’t you look handsome?” she remarked warmly.

“Marco!” Star squealed, dashing over to him. Marco leapt out from behind his mother and followed suit towards the princess eagerly, as if the queen were not even present. “Come on, we have to dance!”

“Bye, _Mamá!”_ Marco called as Star grabbed his hand and they raced to the center of the crystal tiled dance floor.

Angie began to laugh in spite of herself, but a moment later it was cut short entirely. The lights in the chandelier dimmed slowly, causing the dull roar of the guests to gradually dwindle into silence.

“What’s happening?” Moon asked reflexively, although she had a deep horrific feeling she knew what it was. _But no, not on this night…_ “Angela--”

“Marco!” Angie shouted at the children, the dance floor beginning to fill with smoke as a sickeningly green light washed over the entire ballroom. Yet neither the princess nor her companion noticed the impending danger.

“Star!” Moon cried out, hiking up her skirt to run after her, the rest of the crowd having parted the floor like the Red Sea at the sudden disturbance. “Get away from there, it’s not safe!”

“Marco, come back here!” Angie yelled desperately, already halfway across the floor to retrieve them. Fortunately the children had sensed something was wrong and backed away from the smoke, glowing green and rising higher and higher. A shape had taken form; tall and broad-shouldered with sharp reptilian features.

“No…” Moon recognized immediately who this was, grabbing Star by the arm and pulling the girl behind her. She scanned the crowd frantically for her husband as Marco leapt fearfully into Angie’s waiting arms. The queen hadn’t wanted to remove the wand from its protective case this evening, but now…

 _I may have no choice_ , she thought, dread clenching her heart as the all-too familiar figure rising from the smoke appeared at last.

 

* * *

 

The figure, a sort of lizard and crocodile hybrid, dressed in a fine evening suit with a blood red cape billowing behind him let his surveying eyes scan over the crowd. Most were backed against the nearest wall, couples were huddled together whispering, a few children were crying. But he paid them no heed--to put their lives in fatal danger would be stupid and a waste. It was not the esteemed party guests he was here for.

“General Toffee--how _dare_ you show your face here again!”

Ah, there he was. Fixing his gaze on the thrones ahead of him, Toffee chuckled at the little man they called their king, pointing his crescent moon staff at him threateningly.  _Hardly_ threatening. No, it was clear who was truly in charge in the Royal family, and it was not him.

“King Butterfly,” he said calmly, spreading his arms wide in greeting as he advanced towards him. “I do apologize for my unexpected arrival, but you see...I have been dabbling a bit in the Dark Arts and just _had_ to try it out at your little ‘ball.’” He made a show of brushing smoke from his shoulders, “A juvenile trick to be sure, but I do plan on advancing very--” His yellow eyes gleamed in the dim candlelight as he grinned widely, “ _Very_ quickly.”

Other servants had filed in from the dining hall to see what the commotion was, including Rafael. Scurrying around the outskirts of the crowd as quietly as he could, and out of Toffee’s range, he finally found his wife huddled next to the queen’s throne.

“Angie!” he whispered, and she whirled around clutching Marco against her.

“Rafael,” she breathed, stealing a quick kiss in relief that he was there unharmed, for who knew what the monster general had done to gain entrance. Marco sniffled as he climbed into his father’s arms, hugging him tight around the neck. But the little boy’s worried gaze focused on the thrones beside them, where Star stood hidden behind her mother, seemingly frozen in fear.

“What is it you want?” came the sharp demand of Queen Moon. “We drafted and signed the peace treaty. You have no more business with us, so take your leave!”

“Oh a treaty, yes, but we seem to disagree on our definition of ‘peace.’” Any trace of pleasantries had disappeared from Toffee’s otherwise subtle expression. “You’ve left our realm in squalor, my people treated as less than _dirt_. Your _treaty_ demanded our economy be depleted to pay for the costs of this war _you_ declared, leaving us with nothing!”

“Your kind terrorized the people of our dimension for too long, General!” Moon countered angrily. “And now, interrupting our gala to torment us was your fatal mistake. River!” The king opened the case holding the Royal Wand and threw it to his wife, who caught it one-handed. At once, it glowed in her grip. “Now leave the castle immediately, or I shall force you to.”

“Oh my dear Queen, you always were a worthy adversary,” Toffee laughed lightly as if she were joking. “Unfortunately, the time for peaceful negotiations has passed.”

The front doors to the castle flew open as a squadron of monsters entered, led by an embarrassingly petite birdlike man with a high-pitched war cry. The crowd gasped and shrieked as the far more intimidating creatures carrying bayonets, rifles and ball-and-chain weapons stormed the ballroom.

“What, did you think I’d dare to come here alone? And let Lieutenant Ludo miss all this fun?” Toffee held up his hand, and his second-in-command stopped short from charging the throne.

“The  _Wand!_ ” Ludo squawked. “General, we have no chance if she wields it!”

“Patience,” Toffee patted his head condescendingly and shooed him away before continuing. “My terms are plain, as you can see. The only way for me to exact vengeance is to get you to surrender your Wand, or...as you so plainly put it, take it by _force_.”

“Kill me then,” Moon hissed, the glowing wand spitting sparks as if fueled by the monarch’s rage. “I don’t care what you do to me, you’ll never get this Wand.”

“Really?” Toffee raised his eyebrow. “I mean, either way you will be dead before daybreak, but you’re willing to lay down your life for the Wand with no heir to wield--?” He faltered, as if he had suddenly remembered something important. Slowly bringing his scaled hands together, he pressed his fingertips to his mouth. “You _do_ have an heir.”

With a flourish of his cape, Toffee shot his arm forward, and Moon was flung to the side by an invisible force. He smiled hungrily once the little girl was exposed, shoving her fists in her mouth to stifle a scream. The rose hearts on her cheeks identical to her mother’s diamonds were all the proof he needed.

“Princess Star Butterfly,” he drawled softly. “I don’t believe we’ve met...aren’t you just darling?” A blast of magic shot towards him, sending the general sprawling onto his back. Temporarily winded, he sat up with a growl, his eyes flashing in Moon’s direction. Ludo made to order his men to attack, but Toffee stopped them silently once again.

“If you touch my daughter, you won’t live to tell about it,” the queen’s voice shook with fury. Her poise wavered as Star let out a little cry, running towards her, and Moon scooped her up with one arm. She gasped loudly as she was forced to lurch forward, holding Star tighter so she would not fall. The wand was wrenched from her hand, and Toffee had returned to his feet just in time to catch it.

“Well, it appears I’ve finally found your weakness, my Queen,” Toffee said in grim satisfaction. “This is why I never had children.” Grasping the wand more firmly, it began to transform in his hand. The gold handle became silver and elongated, the blue diamond morphed into the same sickly green the room was bathed in, wisps of green smoke swirling inside the massive jewel.

“You _fiend!”_

“River, stop!” Moon cried as the king raised his staff above his head, running in Toffee’s direction. The reptilian general aimed the wand at him, halting him in his tracks, and this time Star really did scream. But the weapon only seemed to splutter clumsily as Toffee tried to attack, and he frowned deeply.

“Perhaps I need time to harness its power, in not being a descendant of our  _elite_ Butterfly family.” He snapped his fingers and the squadron filed in behind him. “We will take our leave...for now. But heed my warning.” He flicked his wrist and River sank to his knees, the staff clattering beside him. “You _will_ die before the evening is out, and our realm will be free of your tyranny. You…” He swung the wand back around to the queen and princess, “your wife, _and_ your child. I will not rest until every last trace of your bloodline is wiped from the face of the universe!”

Raising his arm to the ceiling, the chandelier above them began to loosen, and Ludo bellowed “Retreat!” to the squadron as it fell. It hit the floor, a deafening conglomeration of clanging metal and shattering crystal filling the ballroom. Guests screamed and ducked for cover as glass shards flew in every direction. But Toffee, Ludo and their army had vanished--and with them, the Royal Wand.

“Everyone, leave the castle at once and return to your homes!” River amplified his voice once more above the panicked crowd, a few glass shards having cut into his own face. “Guards, report to the front hall _immediately_ to seal off the castle!” He turned from the guests as they made to file out of the main entrance and rushed towards his wife. “Dearest, are you alright?”

“It’s gone…” Moon breathed heavily in shock, rocking a whimpering Star against her shoulder. “I let down my guard--he _knew_ I would when Star--”

“This isn’t your fault,” River assured her, taking her trembling hand in both of his. “It was impossible for you to have known this would happen. What’s imperative now is that you and Star get out of harm’s way.”

“What about you?” Moon’s eyes widened, shaking her head. “You can’t remain outside with the guards, they will attack there first!”

“I swore upon our marriage that I would protect you _and_ the power you possess,” River stated firmly. “I won’t break that promise when my protection is needed most.”

“Your Majesty!” the captain of the guard called out from the main entrance. “Awaiting your orders, Sire!”

“I shall return,” River kissed his wife’s hand before kissing both of his daughter’s cheeks. “Stay strong for your mother’s sake, my little Star,” were his last words before he departed.

“I have to go,” Angie spoke loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “The Queen will most likely need my assistance.”

“Wha--Angie, no!” Rafael begged, holding Marco high over his head so he would not be trampled by the guests stampeding for the exits. “We should stay together!”

“Star!” Marco called out to his friend several feet away, who looked around at hearing her name called, but could not see who it was. “Star!”

“Marco, stay here!” Rafael demanded, restraining the squirming child as he tried to break free, setting him back down on his feet.

“ _Papi_ , no--he’ll hurt her!” Marco looked up at his father with pleading brown eyes, a large tear rolling down his cheek. “The bad man said he would, I heard him.”

“Star is with her mother, she’ll be fine,” Angie assured him in a broken voice, drawing him close in a farewell embrace. “You hold onto your father’s hand and don’t let go. I love you, baby.” She stood as Rafael encircled his strong arms around her, briefly losing herself in his kiss before she was forced to break it. “I love you _so much_.”

“ _Yo también te amo_.” Rafael slowly and hesitantly let go of her, and his wife dashed into the crowd and disappeared from view. He reached for his son’s hand beside him--but felt nothing but empty air.

“Marco?!” He frantically searched around the throne area, but the boy was nowhere to be found. Neither, it seemed, were the princess or queen. “ _Marco!_ ”

 

* * *

 

It took no longer than an hour before the remains of the monster army returned. The guests had all departed, but many of the servants remained inside Butterfly Castle to serve and shield the royal family. It was just enough time for Moon to pack her essentials to depart the castle, keeping one eye constantly fixed on the window overlooking the courtyard where River and his troops stood keeping watch.

“Normally I am more composed in times of panic,” the queen whispered gravely, running to retrieve some items from the powder room to stuff in her travel bag. “But with all of this uncertainty--”

“No one blames you, Your Majesty,” Angie shook her head sadly. She had been tasked with calming little Star while her mother saw to their things being secured for their evacuation of the palace. Typically monsters never frightened the girl, they amused her more than anything. But Toffee’s threat, his attack on her father and stealing of her mother’s wand had left her very shaken as Angie held her in her lap in the corner rocking chair.

“We’ll be on our way shortly, Star--but remember we must be very _very_ quiet.” Moon looked to her daughter to make sure she understood, and Star gave a very small nod, her large blue eyes watering.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asked quietly, her nails digging into Angie’s shirt as the handmaiden drew her closer. “He's coming, right?”

Moon paused. “I’m not sure, darling.”

“We have to find Daddy first,” Star proclaimed as if it were an order, despite her lower lip trembling.

“Star, I don’t know if--”

“Daddy has to go with us! Right, Mommy?! He _has_ to!”

“Angela, please,” Moon appealed to her as she pressed a hand to her mouth, her already fractured rock solid stature crumbling further. Her husband could be a complete and utter fool, the yang to her yin, but he would never hesitate to sacrifice his very life for his family. Every regret, every half-hearted _‘I love you’_ rose to the surface of her mind--she had never been able to express how much she truly meant it.

Angie had gotten the queen’s message, shifting Star so she was facing her. “ _Shh_ , it’s alright,” she whispered as the princess buried her face in her bosom. “Your father just had to go take care of some things and he’ll be back.” She stroked her light gold hair, now hanging loosely about her shoulders, feeling the front of her blouse grow wet with the princess’ tears. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“But I’m supposed to be brave...just like Mommy.”

“I’m only brave when I feel I have to be,” Moon replied, moving closer to where they sat. “Just because I appear fearless does not mean that I am.” Star roughly rubbed her streaming eyes before diving into the queen’s arms, nearly knocking her backwards. “The Wand is stolen, and with it all the powers of the universe at my disposal. But right now, I…” She glanced back at Angie, who stood to level with her. “Now I have to protect my daughter with every scrap of inner strength I possess. No longer as a queen, but as a mother.” She reached out and placed a hand on Angie’s shoulder, a very rare display of affection, yet her face remained icy and determined. “You know. You would do the same for your son.”

Just as Angie felt a surge of shame, just as it hit her how much of a mistake it had been to leave Rafael and Marco’s side tonight of all nights, it happened. An explosive clang blew the iron gates surrounding the castle apart, followed by a deafening roar of fury from a hundred voices. A second pealing, thunderous bang confirmed the worst: Toffee’s regiment was inside the castle.

“River…” Moon breathed, yet stopped herself before she frightened Star further.

“I’ll secure your safe passage to the carriage,” Angie made to open the bedroom suite doors, but the queen stopped her.

“No, forget the carriage--I’ll take it from here.” Plunging her hand back into the bag, she withdrew a glinting silver pair of enchanted scissors, able to open portals to transcend dimensions.

“My Queen--”

“Angela, you know where you need to be right now. And it’s not here.”

“Yes...yes of course.” With a slight bow, Angie whirled on her heel and slipped out the door. For the brief period it was ajar, the queen could hear just how close in proximity they were to the invading troops.

 _It will be a miracle if she makes it down the stairs alive_. Moon placed the scissors in her belt before instinctively reaching for her wand--only to remember it was gone. She could not teleport herself and Star outside the palace, and dimensional scissors could not be used within the castle walls. They were hopelessly trapped.

“Star, get your things,” Moon ordered, setting Star down on the floor as she ran to the window, peering down at the drop. As she began to assess if there was enough snow on the grass to cushion their fall, a hard scraping noise caught her attention from behind. Fear seized her heart as she turned to see a panel in the wall of the suite opening up to lead to a dark tunnel. The old castle had many secret passages built in over the generations, some more obvious to the eye than others. The fact that Toffee’s creatures had discovered this one so quickly astonished her.

But it was not Toffee nor one of his minions who emerged from the wall.

“Marco?!” Star exclaimed, dropping the bag she was carrying to run to him. This, however, did nothing to alleviate Moon’s fears, now for an entirely different reason.

“I found you!” The little boy jumped out of the hole behind the panel and rushed over eagerly.

“Marco Diaz, where is your father?” Moon asked in a hushed voice, hinting to the children to keep their voices down. He lowered his head, and she exhaled sharply. “Did you run away?”

“I had to--I had to make sure you were safe.” He meant both of them, surely, but his glance was fixed on Star.

“He must be worried sick--and your mother just left to find you!”

“It doesn’t matter, you need to get out!” Marco pleaded earnestly. He grabbed Star’s hand and pulled her towards the wall opening, as the bangs and shouts outside their room grew louder and closer. “Remember where this one goes?”

“Uh-huh!” Star nodded, clearly pleased with herself. “You follow it to the fork, and if you go right it leads to the kitchen, but if you go left--”

“--it leads outside to the courtyard by the pond,” Marco finished, pushing open the panel wider. “Now go! Before they find out where the passages are!”

Moon bit her tongue to keep from reprimanding her daughter for running around in those dingy tunnels, for now it was the boy’s knowledge of them that was their only saving grace. A final crash and Ludo’s voice from further down the hall gave her the last push forward. “Alright Star, get in quickly.”

“Marco, come on!” Star tugged on his arm to pull him in after herself and her mother, but Marco shook his head.

“They’re coming.”

“ _No_ , you--!”

“I’ll find you later, _go!”_

Star began to cry once more, latching her little arms tightly around her friend’s neck. But Moon’s panic reached a peak when she heard Ludo’s voice from outside the bedroom.

“There’s a light on in this room here! Break down the door!”

She hastily pulled Star off of Marco and back into the passage, but the boy had forced the panel shut before she could grab him as well. There was no time to go back, the door had been smashed open.

“Where are they, boy?!” the lieutenant's screeching voice came through the panel where Moon and Star huddled, keeping one hand over her daughter’s mouth.

“Who’s ‘they?’”

“Don’t play the fool, brat--the Queen and Princess!” Ludo shrieked, banging his staff against the floor. “General Toffee’s orders are to kill them on sight!”

“They’re not here.” Then Marco let out a strangled yell, sounding as if he’d lunged something in the lieutenant's direction. There was a thud and a sharp cry--and that was the last Moon heard of him. She closed her eyes, letting Star muffle her sobs into her overcoat.

“Leave him, is not worth it,” came the thick Russian accent of the large bullfrog at Ludo’s right hand. “General’s orders are to harm no one except Butterfly family.”

“Gah--but he was so _cheeky!”_ Ludo huffed, his footsteps retreating away from the wall panel they hid behind. “Let’s keep moving, we’ll find them and finish the job.”

“We doing pretty well, yes?” the bullfrog’s voice faded away as well. “I mean, one out of three not bad.”

 _One out of three..._ It only took a moment for the meaning of those words to sink into the queen, resting in her chest to press on her heart so forcefully it felt as if it would snap in two. The King of Mewni was dead. Her River was gone forever.

Hitching Star up in her arms, she desperately felt her way along the tunnel through a thick veil of tears. For as much as Moon wanted to collapse on the floor and weep until she had nothing left inside her, that was out of the question now. She had to save her daughter, her only remaining family. She  _had_ to.

 

* * *

 

Snow swirled fast and cold in the harsh wind, whipping their faces as they emerged into the courtyard. Moon pulled Star along by the hand as she ran as fast as her little legs would allow. The further they got away from the castle perimeters, the sooner she could use the dimensional scissors to take them somewhere. _Anywhere_ , so long as they were far away and safe. The yard, normally reserved for croquet and tennis in the warmer months, was eerily deserted now as they ran along the snow-covered grass. Indeed, not a single monster appeared to have occupied it, not one footprint embedded in the solid white powder.

But the queen had no time to dwell on this--Star was growing tired, having drained herself from crying, not to mention would become sick being out in the wintery weather for this long. They had to keep moving.

“Mommy, the pond!” Star cried out, pointing to where the decorative lagoon had frozen over. “We can walk over it. We can get to the gate faster--”

“That wouldn't be wise, dear, now please keep up with me,” Moon panted, half dragging her from the water’s edge. Once they made it to the bridge, they would be almost there…

A blinding green light shot through the inky midnight sky, and Moon halted as a figure appeared on top of said bridge overlooking them. She recognized the wand’s power anywhere, even corrupted as it was, and knew who had come to stop their escape.

“Star, we must--!” But a shrill scream stopped her from backtracking, and she looked down. Star was no longer running beside her, nor holding her hand. The wand’s new wielder had sent a blast of magic in the girl’s direction, pinning her in the three-inch deep snow. Moon barely had time to think before the reptilian general jumped from the bridge to land in front of the princess.

“ _Toffee--!_ ”

“Stay back,” he hissed, snatching Star up with one arm while he pointed the wand at the queen’s chest. “How many loved ones do you plan to lose to get this back from me, Your Majesty?”

“Let her go, she’s done nothing!” Moon shouted in despair, watching Star writhe and scream in his grip.

“I was your confidant, Moon Butterfly--or did you forget?” Toffee continued to step back towards the frozen pond, keeping the wand at the ready should she attempt to approach. “When you were nothing but a clumsy girl fumbling your way through your spellbook.”

“That was years ago...if I’d only known then what I know of you now--”

“You don’t deserve this Wand’s power. You _never_ have!” Toffee spat out. “And I won’t be threatened by you or _any_ descendant of yours ag--”

He gasped, his calm demeanor shattering for the first time that night. Star had lunged forward, grabbing the wand with both hands. Its form changed, only for a moment: A pink handle with a circular head, wings sprouting out the sides, and a large gold crystal star in the center.

“No!” he shrieked in uncharacteristic panic, trying to pull it back from her, but the girl’s grip was shockingly strong. As Toffee’s willpower threatened to overtake Star’s, the dueling force became too powerful for the wand to take, sparks and showers of magic spitting from the head. With an earth-shaking explosion, the general bellowed in pain, dropping Star onto the ground. The princess scampered away from him as a piece of the wand went flying. Toffee clutched his hand as blood spewed profusely from where his middle finger had been.

“You filthy spoiled little--!” But he refused to let go of the wand, and that momentarily became his greatest mistake. A final release of magic, and Toffee was flung backwards onto the frozen pond’s surface. His body broke the ice with a great splash as Moon searched frantically for the wand. There was nothing but the piece that had broken off--half of the gold star crystal. Star snatched it up from the ground as another shriek sounded, their company now invaded by another.

“General!” Ludo cried out as he slid down the cliff and across the ice to where Toffee was slowly sinking beneath the icy water.

“Ludo--the Wand--!”

“But the Princess!” Ludo pointed to where Moon and Star had now made it beyond the gate. But Toffee had disappeared, the waters consuming him, and his lieutenant let out an infuriated roar. “And you came _so_ highly recommended!”

But in looking down at his feet, Ludo found not only the half-incinerated Wand...but a fragment of a single scaled bloody finger as well.

 

* * *

 

Several interdimensional portals had been activated already once the queen and princess made it past the gates, servants making a frantic dash back to their homes in the Earth dimension. Moon knew very little about it, but she knew it had to be safer than Mewni at this time. Who knew when they would be able to return, and what would be left for them when they did. She saw many familiar faces as they leapt through the rips in space, closing them swiftly behind them, but Angie and Rafael did not seem to be among them. Her heart sank--they were good people, and she did hope they and the boy were alright.

 _“Get them!_ _It’s Queen Butterfly, get them!”_

Screams rose up from the remaining crowd as Ludo, the massive bullfrog and the rest of their squadron burst into the clearing. There was no time to think of a specific location as Moon wrenched the scissors from her belt, pulling Star around a corner of the drawbridge out of the monsters’ view.

“Where are we going?!” Star’s eyes grew wide as Moon shushed her loud inquiry, snipping at the empty air in front of her. A blinding white light gleamed as the spinning portal opened before them--no doubt a dead giveaway of their location to Ludo.

“Get in quickly, Star.”

“But wh--”

“I don’t  _know_ , dear, just hurry!”

Star timidly approached the swirling light in front of her, sticking her feet in first. “Wait!” she cried, now only visible from the waist up as she clung to both of her mother’s hands.

“I’m right behind you, Star, now go--”

_“There’s a portal open behind the drawbridge!"_

“Mommy?! Mommy, don’t let go!” Star crushed her fingers numb. She had always been so strong.

“Star, I’m...I…” She couldn’t. Ludo was practically on top of them. They were out of time.

Or at least one of them was.

“Mommy…”

And it was _not_ going to be her helpless little girl, who still had her whole life ahead of her.

It happened in a flash, half of Moon’s heart and soul flying through the portal along with Star as both of her small hands slipped out of her grasp. Her scream was cut short as the portal sucked her in, taking her who knew where in the Earth dimension.

“I’m sorry,” the queen wept at last, slicing the portal shut the minute she broke contact with her only child. “I’m sorry, my Star…”

“Lieutenant Ludo! Queen Butterfly has gone in this direction!” Her grieving was interrupted by two voices right around the corner. One was Ludo’s and--Moon exhaled softly--the other was Angie Diaz’s.

“Are you certain?” the birdlike creature cawed suspiciously.

“I’m positive, sir. She’s beyond the hedge over there.”

“You will be rewarded handsomely if you’re correct, girlie. But executed if you’ve lied!” He banged his staff against the ground once more. “You heard her, go that way!”

“Angela--”

“I knew it was you,” Angie whispered once the monsters departed, slipping around the wall so they were shadowed from view. She looked around, “Where is the Princess?”

“She’s somewhere in the Earth dimension. I wasn’t thinking, I--” Her face crumpled as she spoke brokenly, “I just _had_ to get her away from here! I did what I had to!”

“You lost your husband, you couldn’t lose her as well.”

“But I _did!_ She could be anywhere!”

“At least she's safe from here!” Angie was in tears now as well, “I-I can’t find Rafael or Marco anywhere.” Moon instantly recalled the boy being attacked after he saved their lives. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell Angie, watching her wipe her face dry. “I failed them...but I promise I won’t fail you.”

“Here,” Moon placed the scissors in her hands, “You know the Earth dimension better than I. And I trust you, Angela.”

Angie thought hard for a moment, against the smoke and screams and tears of Mewni going up in flames behind them. Slashing the blades through the air at last, she grabbed the queen’s arm and ushered her inside the swirling white hole in space similar to the one Star had fallen through moments ago.

“Come, they won’t find you here…”

And with a last look at the flame-engulfed castle, the only home she’d ever known, countless centuries of Mewnian royalty reduced to ashes in a single night of terror, Queen Moon Butterfly stepped through the portal to Earth and vanished from sight.

 

* * *

 

_So many lives were destroyed that night_

_What had always been was now gone forever_

_And Princess Star, my cherished daughter_

_I never saw her again..._

 


	2. Ten Years Later

Snow blew from the rooftops of barely kempt houses, taking fragments of thatching with it as it swirled cold and bitter above the heads of bustling townspeople. A once glittering realm now reduced to the barest of inhabitability, the streets of Mewni were littered with common folk just scraping to get by. Oh they had hoped, many against the monarchy had prayed that the end of kings and queens would mean a fairer life for its citizens. But with the monsters of the west realm neutralized and disbanded after the death of their general, and the royal family brought to their knees on that awful night, the people had been wandering rather aimlessly. Those whose origins came from the Earth dimension had tried to set up what they called a “constitutional democracy”, but so far the elite had been unable to grant wealth to those who deserved it. Or even stability.

“Your portion,” a curt trollish man grunted, slamming a bag of foul-smelling raw meat in front of a taller built man, bundled up to his eyeballs against the winter weather. Those brown eyes widened and he removed his scarf from his mouth, revealing a pleasant if not a bit wearied face.

“This is far less than last week, Mulish!” he said sharply, but his tone was almost pleading.

“Oh,  _what?_ You think I should make you an exception?!” Mulish leaned in closer, his foul breath even penetrating the scarf his customer had drawn back around his mouth. “Just because you used to work at the _palace?”_

The burly bundled man looked around quickly at the line behind him, but luckily no one had heard him. Those who used to be servants to the Butterfly family, whether Earth human or Mewman, were not treated kindly by the average resident. Some had been dragged into alleys and beaten for that reason alone, some even put on trial. Luckily, he was living to see another dreary afternoon.

“It’s not that,” the man shook his head, speaking even more softly through the fabric. “This would suffice for me alone, but the boy--”

“Save it, Diaz, I know your son barely ever comes home to eat.” Mulish drew himself up taller, squinting at him. “When he’s not stealing from _my_ shop, he’s snatching from every establishment from here to the West Realm! Why you haven’t left him to rot yet, I’ll never know.”

“He’s all I have.” Rafael Diaz lowered his eyes, taking up the bag of meat and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll be back tomorrow to persuade you for more. And you _know_ I can.”

“I look forward to it!” Mulish laughed as Rafael trudged away, shoving past eager patrons in his path. The wind changed directions, snow whipping sharply down into the street as the now former palace servant made his way back home against the cold. As he approached the newsstand in the center square, from just the right angle he could see the towers of the castle--a shell of its former glory. Countless centuries of royalty, gone for good.

Rafael had made his home in Mewni when he was just an adolescent, and despite his current living conditions, did not plan on leaving to return to Earth any time soon. Everything he knew, every milestone of his life was here. When he was hired at the palace and could finally put his culinary skills to use, and with excellent wages. When he met Angie, whose face he still saw every night when he fell asleep, could still recall the sensation of his arms around her curvaceous waist, her plump lips melding into his. When his son was born, his face the spitting image of his own, aside from the mole just under his right eye. A tiny swaddled bundle that whined and grew restless unless Angie held him. Rafael had never done the best job at fathering him. Not then, and certainly not now. But love him? That he did with every fiber of his being.

“Bad day, Raf?” Jed the butcher asked him as they crossed paths in front of the newsstand, a rather large crowd ahead of them shouting and shoving to get a paper.

“Wouldn’t you if your portions were cut because your son’s reputation is spreading like wildfire?” Rafael sighed, and Jed clapped a hand on his shoulder sympathetically.

“I’ll see what I can do.” The butcher’s eyes traveled alarmedly over to the newspaper cart, where things were escalating out of hand. “Any idea what’s happening over there?”

“It’s just a rumor!” one woman shrieked above the crowd. “Honestly, all this fuss over an article by a gossip columnist, why I never!”

“A rumor with merit, Madam!” a blonde freckled newsboy shouted back, passing papers to those waiting in the line while eagerly collecting gold coins in return. “Think about it, they never did find a body or any remains.”

“Such talk,” she scoffed, shoving the paper back in his face. “It’s been a decade, why dredge this up now? To boost paper sales, that’s why!”

“Here, I’ll take it off your hands,” Rafael took pity on the crestfallen boy, handing him his last coin in exchange for the paper the woman had just refused.

“Much obliged, sir!” The boy smiled as he ran off, and Rafael felt a surge of fulfillment at having done him a favor. But anxiousness swiftly took over from the lurch in his stomach when he heard the irritable lady’s words:  _“It’s been a decade.”_ No...it couldn’t be about that. Not the night that changed Rafael’s life forever--and for the worst.

He looked back up at the faded shadowed palace, perched on a mountaintop as a once literal reminder of the royals’ elevated status. That night. The night Rafael had lost his job, his home and his wife in a matter of hours. The night he’d found his little child lying unconscious in the queen’s suite and carried him away before the room went up in flames. The many nights following where he mourned Angie until the letter arrived, undoubtedly from a merciful angel in heaven, telling him that she was alive and safe back in the Earth dimension.

It was a night he hated to remember, yet would never forget. He slowly, hesitantly unfurled the paper in his hands, preparing himself for the rush of recollections to consume his thoughts.

The headline nearly made his eyes pop out of his skull. No wonder that woman had deemed it a hoax.

 

* * *

 

_Mewnian Princess May Have Survived Palace Siege_

Fourteen-year-old Marco Diaz nearly threw the paper back into the alleyway dumpster he’d just fished it out of. Pulling the rim of his dark red beret down over his eyes so as not to be recognized, he shoved his satchel of goods behind the garbage cans as two men of the law walked past, twirling their batons as if to look threatening to anyone causing trouble. The boy snickered behind his newspaper: After evading them this long, there was no way he was getting caught now. Slick as a ninja he was, and skilled as one as well--the guys who once trained him now looked up to him. As soon as the police had cleared out, he dragged the bag out again and leaned it against his leg, looping the strap through his arm. That stuff was too precious to let out of his sight.

His scowl returned, however, as he gazed back down at the day’s top story. _Although the King did not survive, his daughter may be still alive…_ And a cheap subtitle that sounded like a song lyric to boot. The Mewni press would do anything to turn a quick profit these days, everyone was starved for money and attention. The only thing that angered the jaded teenager more than rumors making the front page was the naive ray of hope this particular headline had stirred within him before common sense snuffed it back out.

Princess Star Butterfly. The king and queen’s only child and heir to the throne. He had known her, played with her, made all sorts of mischief with her. She was his first friend. And he never did learn what became of her, not after she and her mother disappeared into that secret passageway. Queen Moon had escaped to Paris, France where she was lying low--or so his mother’s letter had said, swearing him and his father to secrecy of their whereabouts. His mother, who he hadn't seen in ten long years. But not a soul knew what happened to the little princess. So years ago, Marco had resigned himself to the fact that she was dead and never coming back.

Hitching the satchel up, he hightailed it around the corner to the pawn shop, his breath coming out in long white puffs as he watched the snow start to stick on the ground. They were closing in half an hour, so he needed to hurry. As he slipped in the door and slammed it shut behind him, the owner glanced up at him from behind his own copy of the daily press.

“Mr. Diaz, you’re later than expected today,” he mused nasally, pushing his spectacles up his nose.

Marco exhaled in exasperation, removing his beret as he entered. “It’s harder doing it all on my own.”

“I figured you were as distracted by tonight’s headline as the rest of us are,” the shopkeeper replied, jumping back as the boy flung the satchel onto the table.

“That?” Marco waved his hand nonchalantly at the front page of the copy on the counter, deliberately keeping his eyes averted from the photograph scan of little Star Butterfly’s portrait. He knew exactly where it used to hang--above the dessert table in the dining hall of Butterfly Castle. A memory of a repressed early childhood, visions he had hoped he wouldn’t recall again clouding his mind, that he quickly blotted out as he looked away from those wide expressive eyes on the printed page. “It’s a conspiracy to get people riled up over nothing.”

“Is it though?” the man arched his eyebrow. “Would your father be able to confirm or deny this speculation?” Marco looked up at him, his eyebrows shooting up into his dark brown bangs anxiously, and the owner grinned. “I worked with Rafael at the palace, boy. _My_ speciality was souffles.”

“Not so loud,” Marco whispered, propping his own paper up to hide their faces. “Don’t you know what they do to former servants?”

“No worse than what happened to King River. Or what may have happened to her.” He pointed a long dirty-nailed finger down at the photo of Star, and Marco’s stomach knotted. “Only four years old...such a tragedy.”

“Alright look, just tell me how much you can give me for this and I’ll get out of your hair,” Marco spit out in one breath, raking a hand through his own thick hair uncomfortably. The sooner he got out of there, the sooner he could chuck that paper out-- _burn_ it, if he had to. Anything to bury the images of the young boy who lived amongst the royal family’s splendor before it crumbled to dust.

“The days of pawning off trinkets is past as of today, boy. I’m far more interested in what _this_ reward will bring.”

Marco raised his eyebrows again curiously, “What reward?”

“Didn’t read the article all the way through, did you?” The shopkeeper flipped open the paper to the Continued page, and now the photo of Star was staring Marco in the face. “ _‘The former Queen Moon Butterfly announced her intent to offer a handsome reward of--_ ”

 

* * *

 

“Ten million gold pieces!” Marco bellowed as he barged in the door of the cottage, startling his father so badly that he burned his hand on the lit stove.

“Marco, where have you been all day?” Rafael asked, wiping his good hand on a dirty cloth as he peered out the window. “It’s after dark.”

“That doesn’t matter, _none_ of this matters anymore,” Marco panted excitedly, throwing the satchel into the corner where it clanged noisily. He waved the paper in his father’s face as the older man turned off the stove and went to ice his sore hand. “Did you see this?”

“Everyone on Mewni has seen it, Marco,” his father answered calmly, wincing as he applied the cold pressure to his burns.

“Did you see the part about the reward?” Marco went on, ripping the paper open to find the section that had sent him reeling into this state. “ _‘Ten million gold pieces to whoever finds the Princess and brings her to Paris on Earth_. _'"_ His chocolate eyes glinted, “We’ve got this, Dad. We’re getting that reward money, and then we won’t have to--where’re you going?” Rafael had strode across the room to where his son’s satchel had fallen and Marco’s heart dropped. “Dad, don’t--!”

“Plates...silverware, pure gold candlesticks--I _knew_ it.” Rafael dropped the items before turning to face him heatedly. “You’ve been looting from the palace again.”

“Of course, how else are we supposed to eat?” Marco shrugged. “But it’s alright, we--”

 _“No puedo creerlo!”_ Rafael shouted, and Marco took a step back at the explosion of his father’s native tongue. “How can you keep doing this without a guilty conscience,  _mijo?_ After everything they did for us, and you disgrace the legacy they left behind.”

“It left us with _nothing_ , Dad,” Marco crumpled the paper in his balled fists. “The palace is gone, the royals are gone, _Mom_ is gone. What good does dwelling on it do any of us? All it does is make men like you into sentimental old fools.” He swallowed hard before continuing, “I didn’t wanna think about it all ever again. Until now anyway.”

“Marco…” Rafael’s voice softened as he moved closer to his son, who gazed back down at the wrinkled newspaper. He placed his calloused hands on his shoulders, holding them even more firmly when Marco tried to shrug him off. “ _Entiendo_ \--you miss your mother.”

“I barely knew her,” Marco said huskily, trying to look away, but Rafael took the beret off of his head to reveal his darkened expression.

“And yet you kept every letter she’s ever written you.”

“How do you--?” Now it was Marco’s turn to react in rage as he physically wrenched his father’s hands from him. “You went in my room, didn’t you?!”

“I needed a scarf!” Rafael said innocently, holding up his hands. “My point is, you can’t keep acting out like this because of it. Those boys, Alfonso and Ferguson--they’re a bad influence.”

“Well, Ferguson’s still in jail and Alfonso’s taking care of his sick mother. So it’s all me right now!” Marco spread his arms wide proudly, though his face was clouded with anger at the invasion of his privacy. “I just do what I need to do to get by. Now, we’re gonna be set for life.” He pointed to the front page once more.

“You plan to find the Princess?” Rafael folded his arms across his chest, intrigued.

“No one knows more about Star than you and me,” Marco began slowly, yet eagerly. “Except Mom, so we’ll have to convince her more than anyone--besides the Queen herself.” He whirled around, ready to deliver the final touch. “I plan to find a girl we can _pass off_ as the Princess.”

“Marco--!”

“Dad, think for a second before you yell,” Marco continued in a hushed tone. “Ten _million_ gold pieces. You can do whatever you want with that. Go anywhere you want, buy everything you want--”

“The only thing I want,” Rafael cut him off, cupping a hand on top of his head to ruffle his hair, “is your mother back. So the three of us can be a _familia_ again.”

“We can have that, too--the sky’s the limit.” He clapped his hands together, “First thing’s first, we need to make posters. Then we need to find a space to hold auditions--”

Rafael watched him pace the room helplessly. There was no stopping Marco once a plan formed in his mind, plans that were always organized and carefully constructed. He knew it was wrong, of course he knew that. But the strong possibility of the money, that weakened him as much as it would any other man. He could finally be the providing father he’d always wanted to be, for unconditional love could only get them so far in life. If he’d learned anything since that fateful night, it was that.

“So...say this scheme of yours goes off without a hitch and we find the perfect girl to play Star Butterfly,” Rafael inquired, “How do we get to Earth to travel to Paris without dimensional scissors?”

Marco frowned, “I’m still working on that.” Scissors were rare, far rarer than they were ten years ago. There was a pair in the pawn shop now under high security going for five thousand gold pieces and inflating daily. He shook his head, he’d worry about that later. “Right now we need to focus on finding the girl.”

“I’m surprised, Marco,” Rafael said, and his son rolled his eyes.

“Don’t give me the morality lecture, Dad. It’s never worked before and it’s not gonna work now.”

“As much as I want to, I know it’s futile.” His gaze grew gentler again, sympathetic brown eyes boring into Marco’s identical lively ones, sparkling with enthusiasm. “No I mean, when that rumor was announced, I...I figured you of all people would believe that Princess Star was still alive.” He let out a slight, sad sigh, “But you don’t, do you?”

Marco’s conniving smile slipped away, leaving wistfulness and distress in its wake. A dull ache settled in his chest as if reliving that pain all over again: When his father told him his mother disappeared, spending countless late nights crying into Rafael’s chest, a little boy’s grief that became joy when she finally contacted them. He’d clung to hope for too long, thinking that if his mother had survived, then his best friend Star had to be out there too. A few years went by, several long months hearing nothing, not a single sign of her. And then Marco cried again, even harder that time, when he finally gave up. He _never_ wanted false hope to bring him back to that lowest point, not if he could help it. Which was why he faced his father frigidly at his remark.

“It’s been ten years,” Marco replied in simple practicality. “If she was really alive...don’t you think she would’ve come forward by now?”

 

* * *

 

Every nook and cranny of Echo Creek Orphanage seemed to creak as the biting wind blew against the old building, rustling the curtains as it leaked through the spiderweb-cracked window. Some of the younger children whimpered in the room down the hall, silenced instantly by the loud thud of a heel kicking a door and a bark of  _“Shut up!”_ She, however, was the only one cooped up in this particular room, and one of the oldest ones left in the whole establishment.

The skinny girl lay on her back against the stained smelly rug covering an even dirtier wood floor, long unkempt blonde hair fanned out underneath her, frowning at the nasty shriek of Felicity, the heinous orphanage headmistress. Once she was gone, she might sneak over to check on the little ones and try to cheer them up. It was the least she could do, for she had been a young one here herself ages ago. _How long ago was it now?_

She rolled over to face the black plaster wall, covered in white tally marks. Using her thumbnail, she scratched in another mark closer to the floor:  _Three thousand six hundred and thirty-six…_ That would make it almost ten years, if her math was correct. She smiled--Jacqueline would be proud. She was so smart, and taught her easy tricks for when numbers confused her. The day she left had definitely been one of her saddest there. And she had seen a lot of sad days.

Where it all began, and how she ended up here, that she could never answer no matter how hard she tried. They had found her when she was very small--the girl with no name, no possessions with which to identify her, and no memories. They confirmed she had hit her head very hard after the initial examinations, suffering a severe bout of amnesia. She had been wearing a thin nightgown and overcoat, and in the pocket of that coat was a broken piece of gold crystal. She clung to it even now in the pocket of her tattered turquoise dress like a lifeline, the only clue to who she had been before she came there. Withdrawing it, she held it up to the window, the moonlight catching it. It looked like half of a golden star.

So that was what they called her--Star. A ray of light that pierced the darkness, the girl who wore a smile despite her situation. After many nights spent crying herself to sleep as a child, desperately wishing for a family, the oldest girl named Mina had curled up beside her and sung to her, cradling her, giving her a comfort that felt familiar, yet she could not recall. Star couldn’t remember her much, she had left years ago. But she remembered her hugs, her singing and how she told her to keep looking forward to where better days lay ahead. And that was how she had taken on each day since then--with her chin in the air and a stiff upper lip.

Jacqueline and Janna had always admired her for that, and for a long time the three girls of the same age were thick as thieves. Sometimes literally--Janna was a little too clever for her own good, but she had taught Star how to pick locks with hairpins, which came in handy more often than she thought it would. She hoped the strangely macabre girl wasn’t terrorizing the family who adopted her _too_ much. Star had been forced to watch as both she and Jacqueline, the smart athletic girl who took everything in stride, drifted away until she was the only one of their age group left.

Well except Betsy, but she and Star stayed as far away from each other as possible. The snooty girl with straight black hair and almond-shaped eyes had always envied Star’s golden hair and baby blue eyes--a fact that naive, friendly Star hadn’t realized until too late. A few years back, Betsy had offered to braid Star’s hair, which it turned out was just an excuse to weave chewed taffy into her silky yellow locks. It had grown back, but Star wouldn’t forget watching Betsy laugh at her through a veil of tears as Felicity hacked the sticky braid off of her head. They had been younger then. Now that they were... _Fourteen?_ Star guessed, glancing back at the tally marks. Well, they were old enough to simply hate each other in secret.

She was no longer a child, and because of that, Star needed to know. It had eaten away at her every day, through her smiles and laughter and contagious silliness, the pang of her lost past still cut through her heart like a knife. Who was she? Why was she abandoned, and at such a young age? She gripped her namesake crystal shard tighter--what was this thing and where did it come from? The older she got, the more she yearned for answers. And now she was practically a young woman.

It was time to take action.

“Star?” She had barely made it out of her room and down the hall when a door creaked open. One of the littlest girls, Sonia, poked her head out. “Where are you going?”

Star smiled and knelt down to her level, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “I have to go,” she whispered. “I’ve been here for too long.”

“You’re leaving?” Sonia seemed on the brink of either tears or excitement, her eyes getting bigger as she grabbed Star’s hand. “To find your family?”

Star nodded, “I know they’re out there somewhere. I have to know why they haven’t come for me.”

“Star, I had an idea! Remember when you told me the stories about the fairytale kingdom?” the girl went on, squeezing Star’s fingers. “Far away from Earth, in another dimension?”

“Mewni?” Star furrowed her brow, recalling the dusty books regaling tales of kings and queens doing battle with monsters, falling in love and living in royal splendor. “What about it?”

“Maybe your family’s in another dimension--like Mewni.”

At first she was about to dismiss this, then stopped to consider it. Could that be why they had not come to claim her? Perhaps Star was not from Earth after all? She shook her head, “Sonia, I can’t just _go_ to another dimension. I would need--”

“Dimensional scissors.”

“And the only people who have those are--”

“Miss Felicity has some.” Star’s jaw dropped as Sonia grinned proudly, “She keeps them in her office. You just have to sneak in there and get them and then you--!” Her eyes became downcast, her lip quivering, “And then you can go.”

Star gathered her up in a tight hug, shushing her gently as another gust of wind rattled the worn rooftop. “You’ll be brave for me, won’t you? And for the other girls?”

Sonia rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand as they pulled apart. “Uh-huh. Goodbye, Star.”

“Goodbye, Sonia.” She gave her a quick kiss on top of her head, making sure she made it safely back into bed before taking off towards the stairs once again. _Felicity has dimensional scissors?_ _How?_ Star knew vaguely of servants from Earth who used to work at the Mewnian palace--but there had been an uprising or something and there were no more royals. Knowing their morally reprehensible headmistress, she had probably either stolen them or won them in a gamble, which was what she was out doing now. If Star was going to break into the office, tonight was the night.

Sliding swiftly down the banister, Star tried not to cry out in amusement as the wind rushed briefly through her hair before she landed on the carpeted ground floor. Stairs were for people taking their time, and she needed to act fast. Pulling a bobby pin out from under her red headband, she invoked Janna’s foolproof trick on Felicity’s locked office door. Sure enough, it clicked within moments and Star turned the handle eagerly, cracking the door open just wide enough for her to slip through before shutting it again. She couldn’t risk Betsy or any of the cleaning staff seeing her and ratting her out, not now that Sonia had given Star her the first ticket out of this nightmare in ten years. She just hoped the girl hadn’t been mistaken.

Scampering over to the desk, she began pulling out drawer after drawer, finding regular old scissors, but nothing that seemed enchanted or unearthly. In a cabinet behind the desk, she found files on every girl currently residing at Echo Creek sorted alphabetically. Curiously, she flipped to “ _S_ ” and pulled out one of the more yellowed, stained folders entitled _“STAR"._ At last, she might actually find out something.

_Found: February 24th, 1916. Skin: Light. Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Blue. Strange faded markings on face._

Star frowned, catching her reflection on the wall mirror next to the desk. Despite the ragged conditions she had been forced to endure, her ivory skin was soft and unblemished. Poking briefly at her cheeks, she shook her head and stuffed the file back into the drawer exasperatedly. As she focused back on finding those scissors, a twinge of jealousy twisted her heart at the fact that her file was nearly empty compared to the other girls’. They all had a past. They all had stories they came from, that had led them to such a terrible fate. Star had nothing--absolutely nothing before that night she was found. With a great sniff, she swallowed down the lump in her throat as she went to wrench open the bottom drawer, but it wouldn’t budge.

 _Ah ha! Locked._ Ripping the pin out of her hair again, she stuffed it into the tiny lock, fiddling until she heard the familiar click. Inside were bonds for hundreds of dollars, gold pieces from who knew where, and--

 _Yes! Sonia was right!_ Star nearly gasped in relief when she saw them, glinting up at her in all their silver glory, a purple diamond glittering in the center where the blades parted. The scissors she’d only heard stories about but never actually seen, let alone held in her hands. Chewing anxiously on her hairpin, she heard footsteps outside the door and quickly ran to the window, clutching the scissors to her chest as she pushed it open. Jumping up onto the sill, she slid off the edge and into a snow-covered dead rose bush, which prickled but cushioned the slight drop. Hidden beneath the bush, she fumbled with the scissors in her shaking hands.

How did these work? Could anyone use them? No, that couldn’t be right, Felicity would’ve left ages ago if she could--she hated children. But then she remembered what Sonia had said, about the possibility that Star herself was not from this dimension.

 _So just...cut through the--_ Star inhaled sharply as a brightly lit rip in the air appeared before her, glowing like a beacon in the night the longer she snipped. Hearing the guard dog bark around the corner, Star glanced quickly up at the top floors.

 _Thank you, Sonia. Take care of yourselves, girls._ With a final nod, she turned towards the portal and stepped through. _Alright. Take me to where I’m supposed to go. Take me to my past…_

As she hit the ground once more, face first this time, she was disappointed to feel snow as cold as the weather she had just left behind. Except it was daytime here, and she’d fallen in a haystack where animals and people bundled in ragged clothing were bustling as the portal closed behind her.

But that wasn’t the main thing that caught Star’s attention, rather what towered far above the village. Again, she had only see pictures of it in old books, but there was no mistaking the palace looming in quiet majesty over her on the mountaintop.

She exhaled in disbelief. Could she really _truly_ be on Mewni?

 


	3. Once Upon A December

“Mother, it’s me! Your daughter, Star!”

“Thank you,” Marco dismissed in a monotone, scratching another name off his notepad roughly before waving the melodramatic girl off the stage.

“Uh--wait!” the girl cried out in a high-pitched nasally voice. “But my--my name really _is_ Star!”

“Yeah, you and a third of the girls we’ve seen today. The name got really popular after she was born.” He heard noisy crunching beside him, and he swiveled to narrow his eyes at his father in the chair next to him. “You’re enjoying my suffering, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m hungry,” Rafael said thickly, his voice muffled from the sandwich he’d gotten from the vendor outside the abandoned theater. “We’ve been at this for five hours.”

“Just give me another chance! I can try a different take on--”

“You don’t even look anything _like_ the Princess!” Marco pointed out, gesturing to the auditionee’s dark eyes and tight black curls. “Oh, and nice try lying about your age on your form--” He held up a paper with her scribbled handwriting on it before crumpling it up in his fist, “--but I can tell you’re at least seventeen.”

“But--!”

“I said _thank you!_ ” Marco shouted at last, pointing forcefully towards the door. The girl stomped her foot, roughly wiping the hearts she’d painted on her cheeks with pink lipstick off on the back of her hand as she stalked away.

“You don’t have to be so cross,” Rafael said after he finally swallowed.

“Like you said, it’s been five hours,” Marco breathed out exasperatedly, slumping back down in the precariously creaky wood chair. “Alright, who’s next?”

“That’s the last one.”

“You’re serious? There’s no one else waiting outside?” He jumped up again and bolted to the front of the house. Rafael took another succulent bite of his submarine sandwich as he heard his son yell “No, I _don’t_ want a Goblin Dog!” out into the snow before slamming the door to the theater shut again. “I can’t believe this! There’s  _no_ other girls on Mewni between the ages of thirteen and fifteen?!”

“Maybe you scared them all off with your sharp tongue,” Rafael chuckled through chewed bread and meat. “Despite your dashing good looks.”

“Shut up, Dad,” Marco muttered, grabbing a handful of headshots as he sat back down.

“Here, eat something,” Rafael insisted, breaking his sandwich in half as he watched Marco flip through the pages.

“Thanks,” he said, not even looking up as he swiped the food from his father’s hand and bit into it zealously. Pulling out one picture of a particularly youthful-looking girl, he saw he had written _“blonde hair, blue eyes”_ in the bottom corner. Her face was a bit more angular than Star’s, but pretty close otherwise. “Maybe we should call this one back in.”

“Marco, she was  _ten_ ,” Rafael replied bluntly, “We’re not getting a child wrapped up in our scheme.”

“She _looks_ fourteen--”

“Besides, we won’t be able to use the theater to hold auditions anymore,” Rafael sighed, and Marco whipped his head around at him quickly. “Tomorrow’s the first of the month and they’re raising the rent again.”

Marco’s knitted brow relaxed and he nodded, cramming the last of the sandwich into his mouth. “So we need more money.”

“Marco, _stop_.” Rafael flung out an arm to halt the boy in his tracks as he made to run for the door. “You’re not going back to steal from the castle. It’s been over a week, we’ve wasted our last coin on this flea-infested theater, and _still_ no girl to play Star Butterfly.”

“Who says I’m stealing? I’m going to do more research, and...mourn the loss of our beloved sovereigns.” He wiped a fake wistful tear from the corner of his eye.

“I’ve been watching terrible performances all day, and this is the worst one yet,” Rafael grumbled as he turned his head away, _“Pedazo de mierda...”_

“I’m not giving up yet, not with that reward on the line,” Marco said. “Alright, so maybe none of these girls cut it, but who needs them?” He ripped the stack of headshots in half before flinging them dramatically over his shoulder, where they fluttered to the floor behind him. “We’ll find our Star. Dress her up, teach her everything she needs to know--and once the Queen sees that _we’re_ the ones who brought her, she’ll think it’s really her daughter.”

“Marco, y--wait a minute!” Rafael spluttered in indignation as Marco ducked swiftly under his arm and raced down the aisle. “If you go back to the palace, I’ll follow you!”

“Great, I could use a hand!” Marco called back, pulling his coat on as he made for the door. “Everyone has a doppelganger, Dad. And Star’s is out there somewhere. Maybe even right under our noses!”

 

* * *

 

“Hello! Anyone home?!” Star pounded on the wooden planks boarding up the front of the castle with her fists, but no answer came. Another gust blew across the mountaintop, at least ten degrees colder than it was back in the village, and she drew the shawl she’d swiped from a shop tighter around her lithe frame. Her worn boots grew soaking wet from standing in the snow waiting for a response. So she blew a raspberry through her lips and shoved her windswept hair impatiently out of her eyes as she walked along the stone exterior to find another entrance. To be fair, the orphanage wouldn’t have been much warmer.

It didn’t look like anyone had occupied this palace in years--no kings or princesses to be found, not even a footman. She knew there had been some sort of revolt in the kingdom a long time ago, but didn’t know just how desolate it had left everything. The conditions of the village were only slightly better than how the palace looked right now, at least from the outside. Perhaps the inside had been preserved.

Rounding the corner, Star slipped easily between the bars of the rusted gate and came across a courtyard, white with freshly fallen snow. A pond that flowed into a small river was in the center with a decorative stone bridge arched over it. Just as she was imagining how pretty it all must look in the warm months, a sudden cold dread washed over her the longer she stared at the frozen water. The ice looked thin. Someone would easily fall through if they tried to walk across. In fact, she was sure she had seen someone fall through it…

 _Wait a minute! You’ve never been here before, how can you remember something that never happened?_ Tearing her eyes away, she focused on the wall beside her as she breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart. It must have been a bad nightmare about drowning she’d had ages ago, there was no other reason why this would shake her up. It was then that she noticed a crevice in the stone along the ground, a neatly chiseled crack that went up the length of the wall. Biting her lip, Star dug her nails into the thin opening and pulled, the crevice getting wider and wider.

A secret passage. Of course, all castles had them. Any structure that has stood for centuries always has secrets. But what intrigued her was that while the castle looked like it hadn’t been touched in forever, this crevice had clearly been disrupted. Almost as if someone used it regularly. Climbing into the hole, Star made sure to close the wall behind her, letting the darkness swallow her whole.

There was no light, and no sound aside from her own breathing, so there was no choice but to feel her way along the rough granite wall. She had no idea how long this tunnel was, nor where in the castle it would ultimately lead. And the longer she walked, the shakier her breaths became. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, but she was afraid of wandering around in strange places alone, being uncertain of her destination. Feeling in her pocket for the gold crystal shard, she brought it to her mouth and nibbled on a corner while she hummed to herself. A tune she had stuck in her head for longer than she could remember. It was a soft haunting tune, like a lullaby a mother would sing to a child. Veering left at the fork, she tried not to panic when she heard scuttling above her. She had a tendency to get violent when threatened, and swinging her arms around blindly in this pitch blackness was probably not the best idea.

At last, she came to a wall identical to the one she left behind, and eagerly pushed it open. Or rather had some difficulty getting it open due to brass pots and pans blocking it from the other side. It was a kitchen, and a messy one at that. Dust and cobwebs clung to every surface, and Star grimaced at her dirty hands while she hung onto the countertop to climb over the ransacked flatware on the floor. The doorway led out to a massive dining hall--the long table broken in half, velvet chairs flung here and there, glass statues shattered on the floor. The air smelled of ash, the wood charred as if there had been a fire.

She continued to walk; her feet involuntarily guiding her she knew not where as she became lost to the dread in her heart once more. The fire, the revolution, the end of the Mewnian monarchy. Star could hear the screams, the crashing, the sorrow all around her as if she had been there herself.

 _But you weren’t_ , she scolded, wiping her nose on the corner of her shawl, from the cold or otherwise. _Jumping through that portal must’ve messed with your head, get ahold of yourself._

She gasped softly when she looked up, her mouth falling open at the grandiosity of the sight before her. The marble tile tipped her off that this must have been the ballroom. Streaks of the setting sun gleamed through the long windows aligning the walls, casting dusty spotlights around the room. At the far end stood the thrones of the king and queen, elevated on platforms above the dance floor. Behind them, bathed in one of the sun’s orange rays, rose a portrait of the royal family: A stout pleasant king, a poised stern queen with diamonds on her cheeks, and a very young princess with a bright smile and hearts adorning hers.

The sense of being haunted had evaporated as Star gazed around her in wonder. But the familiarity of her ambience never left. Despite how dead and barren the rest of the castle was, this room still had a sort of magical atmosphere emulating from the intricacy of the portraits. As she practically glided onto the floor, she closed her eyes and let herself float away.

The candles were lit, the chandelier was intact, the echoes of voices surrounded her…

_“There’s my little lady…"_

_“Come here darling, there’s a lot of people you still haven’t shown your pretty dress to yet…"_

She felt sudden warmth--someone was holding her close in their arms. She was loved and cared for in a way she never recalled before. Figures swirled around her in utter grace, as if they had leapt from the faded paintings. Every corner of this room stirred something within her, long buried memories now being roused awake as a slow smile spread across her face. This place felt like home. One she’d never known, and yet yearned to remember.

The laughter of a sweet child soared above the roar of chatter. Star felt her hand grow warm at the faint tingle of another clasped around hers, a second child’s laughter joining the first’s… _“Come on, we have to dance…”_

“ _Hey!_ How’d you get in here?!”

Star shrieked as she was jolted out of her imaginary revelry, the jarring draftiness of the old castle crashing down on her once more. Swinging around, she found herself staring at two people in the ballroom doorway: A middle-aged man with greying dark brown hair and a boy around her age, the one who had called out.

Without thinking, and still a good hundred feet away from them, Star made a run for it.

 

* * *

 

“Stop!” The girl had spun on her heel to dash towards the thrones at the other end of the hall, but Marco wasn’t about to let her get away. He was hot on her heels in a millisecond, having to push a bit more than usual to keep up with her as she sprinted for the exit. She was fast, but he had a history of running from police under his belt, and was within arm’s reach of her within moments. “Hold it right there!”

Star yelped as the boy grabbed her arm and forced her to face him. “Let _go!”_

“Ohhh no, not until you answer some questions!” Marco snapped, keeping his hand clamped around her upper arm as she struggled against him. The castle was _his_ territory, and he wasn’t about to let anyone else encroach on his goldmine. “Like how you--!”

She raised her head to sneer at him, and he stopped once he got a good look at her face. They had halted at the edge of the dance floor, directly in front of the thrones. And from their perspective, the girl’s face lined up perfectly with Princess Star Butterfly’s in the massive portrait. Blonde hair: Check. Blue eyes: Check. Round face: Check. She tilted her face to the side quizzically at his sudden shift in demeanor, her teeth nibbling at her lower lip. Marco’s heart jolted--she chewed on her lip, too. The same way the princess used to whenever the queen scolded her.

Once Star properly examined the boy who caught her, she realized her initial reaction might have been irrational. He seemed harmless. High strung, but harmless. Now he stared as if he were analyzing her, his grip on her loosening slightly. It flashed before her mind’s eye again, that sense of deja vu. It was like they had stood in this spot before...but no, that was crazy. She had never seen him before in her life.

“Uh...can I have my arm back now?”

“Hold on, just--sit down for a second, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Marco led her up to the platform and sat her down in what used to be the queen’s throne. “Don’t move.”

“Are you sure I’m allowed to sit up here?!” Star called down, still not one hundred percent certain if she could trust this boy. But he didn’t hear her, he was already making his way over to the older man, huffing and puffing up the aisle after them.

“Excuse me, child--!”

“Dad, are you seeing this?” Marco hissed excitedly, grabbing him by the shoulders as he stopped to catch his breath.

“Yes, I’m seeing even more teenagers snooping around the abandoned palace at sunset--how many of you _are_ there?!”

Marco grabbed his father under the chin and pointed his face at the blonde girl on the throne, “Look at her.” He shifted his head slightly to the left, “Now look at the portrait.”

It didn’t take long for Rafael’s eyes to widen in realization. “ _Ay dios mio_ …”

“If you don’t tell me what’s going on in five seconds, I’m leaving!” Star called again, making to jump up from the over-glorified chair.

“Alright sorry, sorry!” Marco leapt back up on the platform in a few quick strides before settling himself in the king’s throne. Leaning forward, he laid his hand reassuringly on her arm, and she settled back into her own seat. “First thing’s first though, how did you get in?”

“I...used the secret passage in the courtyard,” she replied.

“Wha--that’s _my_ entrance!”

“Well it wasn’t exactly _hidden_ ,” Star shrugged, holding up her hands innocently.

“ _Why_ are you here?” he pressed on.

“That’s a little more complicated,” she trailed off--then frowned when his chocolate brown eyes lingered a bit too long on her face again. “Okay, you’re really gonna need to stop staring at me like that.”

“Sorry, it’s just you--you look an _awful_ lot like--” He gestured vaguely to the painting behind them before shaking his head. “Forget it.”

“So why do _you_ get your own entrance?” Star asked him pointedly.

“None of your business,” Marco answered hastily.

“Then I guess I’ll keep mine to myself, too,” she shot back, folding her arms over her chest.

“Fair enough.”

“Marco, get out of the King’s throne--have you no respect?” Rafael said sharply, finally ascending the platform to march over to his son.

“I’m in the middle of something here,” Marco muttered through gritted teeth.

“Look, let’s just start over.” The girl held out her hand, “I’m Star.”

Marco nearly fell out of the seat his father was about to drag him out of. _Another_ Star? “How many girls on Mewni _have_ that name anyway?”

“Oh, I’m not from Mewni.”

“You’re not?” Rafael piped up in disbelief.

“No, I--I came here from Echo Creek Orphanage,” Star elaborated nervously, fingering the end of her frayed shawl. “On Earth.”

Marco sat up straighter, flinging his arm out to swat at Rafael’s. “Then...how did you get to Mewni?” There was only one answer to that question, yet he still thought he was dreaming when Star withdrew them from the belt around her waist.

Rafael’s mouth went dry. “She has dimensional scissors?”

“She has dimensional scissors,” Marco nodded, hardly daring to believe the complete turnaround in his luck. Although he’d never admit it aloud to his father, he had been close to giving up on the scheme for Queen Butterfly’s reward. And now within minutes, he had just cleared the two biggest hurdles in the plan: A pair of dimensional scissors, and a girl who was the spitting image of the princess. Aside from the missing hearts on her cheeks, they could be sisters.

But he couldn’t be too elated just yet--he needed to make sure he didn’t scare this girl off before things were even put in motion. “Okay, let me ask you--‘Star’--is there a last name that goes with that?”

“I--erm--well, I--” Star seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before deflating completely. “This is gonna sound crazy, but I don’t know my last name.” She slipped the broken crystal shard from her pocket and hung onto it like a comfort. “I don’t know a thing about where I came from, they found me wandering around when I was four years old...”

“Four years old,” Rafael repeated quietly, gripping Marco’s shoulder tighter.

“And before you were four?” Marco urged her to go on.

“Look, I’ve tried--I’ve tried for _years_ \--but I can’t remember,” Star pressed her palm to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut desperately. “There were doctors examining me, _they_ couldn’t get me to remember. The only clue I have is this.” Marco and Rafael leaned forward to look at the gold shard in her hand. “That’s why I’m named Star. ‘Cause it looks like part of a star.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Marco squinted down at the piece, but it didn’t seem at all familiar to him. But  _her_...here was a girl with no past, who wanted to uncover it. And they needed a girl to fashion into the lost princess. He silently thanked whatever deity was up there looking out for him before holding out his own hand to her. “Marco.”

Star smirked at him, “There a last name that goes with that, Marco?”

“I’d prefer to keep that to myself for now,” he replied slickly, and she swung her hand out to shake his. “Whoa, what a grip!” he cried, pulling back his hand after she nearly crushed his fingers.

“Sorry! I get a little carried away sometimes.”

“No, it’s--it’s fine.” Flexing his fingers, he turned to find Rafael examining the portrait. “And that’s my father, Rafael.” He peered over at him, “Dad, what are you doing?”

“The resemblance is uncanny,” the older man mused, stroking the goatee on his chin.

“What resemblance?” Star asked, she and Marco both rising from their seats.

“Well dear,” Rafael began, sweeping over to Star to lock arms with her, guiding her along the portrait wall. “We’re going to reunite the long-lost Princess Star Butterfly with her mother.”

“And you do resemble her quite a bit,” Marco added, looping his hand through her other arm.

Star wrinkled her nose up at the image of the beaming little girl. “Eh, I don’t see it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Marco deadpanned.

“You have the same blue eyes--” Rafael remarked.

“The famous royal blue eyes, passed down from Queen Moon!”

“King River’s golden hair!” Rafael pointed out excitedly, Star swatting his hand away as he touched her split ends.

“She’s the same age,” Marco listed off, “the same physical type--”

“Wait!” Star burst out, the two throwing so much at her she thought her head would explode. “Are you trying to tell me you think that _I’m_ this Princess Butterfly?”

“All I’m saying is I’ve seen thousands of girls from Earth and Mewni alike, and not _one_ of them looks as much like Star Butterfly as you.” Marco pointed his finger in her face, and she eyed him warily.

“Ooookay then,” Star unhooked her arms and turned to face them defiantly. “I knew _you_ were crazy from the beginning,” she pointed at Marco, whose mouth opened in outrage, “but now I think you’re _both_ mad!”

Marco and Rafael both ran in front of her as she tried to escape, blocking her path. “Think about it,” Marco said slowly. “You don’t know what happened to you.”

“No one knows what happened to her,” Rafael nodded at the princess’ picture.

“You said you came from the Earth dimension,” Marco placed his hand under hers that were holding the scissors.

“And her only family is in the Earth dimension,” Rafael concluded triumphantly. “Paris, to be exact.”

“But--”

“Child,” Rafael took her hand, smiling warmly. “Have you ever considered the possibility that you came from something greater than yourself?”

“Royalty?” Star raised her eyebrows, relaxing at his gentle inquiry. “Well...sure, I guess every lonely girl hopes in the back of her mind that she’s a princess.” She shook her head, “But that possibility’s one in a million.”

“But someone has to be that ‘one’, don’t they?”

Star said nothing but continued to stare at the picture, and Marco looked over at his father anxiously.

“Just wait…” Rafael mouthed to him. Several agonizing moments later, Star turned back around to look at them, holding up the scissors.

“You’re right,” she let out a laugh, “You’re absolutely _right!_ If I don’t know who I am, then who’s to say I’m not a Princess of Mewni?”

“Sure!” Marco agreed, not daring to say any more that might ruin this big break in his plan.

“And if I’m not Star Butterfly, the Queen will know right away. So really, I’ve got nothing to lose!”

“That’s the spirit!” Marco cheered, stealing a glance over at his father, shocked that he’d managed to convince her. Then again, he did have age and experience that far outweighed Marco’s.

“So, are you willing to take the chance to find your family?” Rafael asked, and Star’s eyes sparkled like her namesake.

“Yes!” She shook hands with him now as Marco swiped the scissors from her.

“And do you know how to get to Paris?” he asked.

Star’s face fell. “Uh...no. In fact, I’m not totally sure how I wound up _here_.”

“Where’d you get these if you don’t know how to use them?”

“I stole them,” she said matter-of-factly, and Marco’s eyes widened.

“Impressive.” If the circumstances were different, he might take her under his wing as a partner in crime. “Well, these’ll at least get us to Earth and we’ll go from there. Catch a train or something.”

“Ooh, yes please!” Star bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. “I’ve never been on a train before!”

“Train it is then!” Rafael trilled along with her, and Marco frowned up at him. “We’ve waited ten years to see your mother,” he whispered, “we can wait a few more days.”

“Fine,” Marco mumbled. He cleared his throat and stood up straight, sweeping his arm out palm up as his voice echoed from the tops of the rafters. “May I present Her Royal Highness, Princess Star Butterfly!”

Star clapped her hands, her face splitting into the widest grin they’d seen yet as she skipped by one of the other passages. Rafael and Marco lagged a few steps behind her.

“Marco.” Rafael looked at him seriously, keeping his tone low. “ _¿Por qué no le dijiste sobre tu plan?_ ”

His son bit his lip, looking at the back of Star’s head, her long hair whipping back and forth. “All she wants to do is...figure out her past.” He shoved his hands into his pockets stubbornly, “Why give away a third of the reward money?” Suddenly he lunged forward as Star ceased skipping at once, feeling her forehead as her brow knitted.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, moving beside her.

“Yeah, I...I think so.” Her face had grown warm, a sort of headache leaving her as quickly as it’d come. She felt Marco’s hand on her shoulder leading her back to full consciousness.

“Staying in this dingy place too long can’t be good for you,” Marco said, keeping his arm around her. “Come on, there’s an exit over here.”

 

* * *

 

_“May I present Her Royal Highness, Princess Star Butterfly!”_

“Mmm...Star Butterfly?” Letting out a tired birdlike caw, Ludo rolled over onto his side, gravel sticking into his bare back as he faced the entrance to the passage. It had been the only home he’d known for the past decade--dank and cold as it was--but from what he heard, most other monsters hadn’t been faring much better these days. He’d made it work though. The spiders and rats brought him food from the outside, and in turn he did the duties he’d sworn to do.

One was an ongoing project, nearly completed if progress was still continuing smoothly. The other, of course, was keeping an eye on the wand until then. The weapon, with its long silver handle and fractured green diamond, was still priceless to him despite its dormancy. Indeed, _he_ would be displeased if Ludo let anything happen to it.

Raising his head slightly in the semi-darkness, the former lieutenant propped his elbow up, holding his head in his claw as he heard a girl’s giggle echo in the hallway on the other side of the wall panel.

“Psh--you’re out of your mind. Star Butterfly is dead. _All_ of the royals are dead.” Well, he didn’t know that for sure. But he figured the more he said it, the truer it would be. For his own peace of mind anyway.

A low rumble was heard from behind him, and for a moment he thought the termites were back. Then a green flash hit him square in the eyes, and he stifled a squawk. Rolling over, Ludo looked up to see the wand pulsating light and smoke from the long-broken jewel. He had to pinch his sagging green skin to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

 _No...it can’t be._ He nearly laughed at the absurdity of it, then stopped himself as he heard the footsteps outside the panel halt. Covering his mouth with his hands to quiet his breathing, Ludo’s eyes darted back and forth between the wall and the wand. _Am I supposed to believe that thing woke up after all these years just because some boy claims she’s a royal?_

The wand began to emit a soft eerie high-pitched scream, the pulsing glow growing brighter and brighter. Ludo heard the boy ask the girl if she was alright before he slapped his hands over his ears.

“Enough already!” he hissed as loudly as he dared, his fist colliding with the handle. “If I wanted my ears to bleed, I’d let the rats hold choir rehearsal in here again!” Panting slightly from his outburst, he watched the smoke recede back into the jewel. But it maintained its sickly green luminance.

This had never happened before. Not since the night of the siege. Ludo continued to stare at the scepter, his mind racing with a mixture of awe and fear.

“But...the Wand only responds to a blood member of the royal family…” He twisted his claws together, nails scratching against his palms. “If it’s reacting without a wielder, then that means--” His face stretched open in understanding, like a shriveled bud opening in spring. “The Princess is _alive!”_

Crawling over to the panel, he pushed it open just a crack. Three figures were retreating to one of the side exits--two men and the girl he’d heard laugh before. A cascade of light gold hair flowed down her back, and as she turned to the older man, Ludo caught her toothy smile.

“And  _that’s her!”_

This was bad. This was very _very_ bad. And of course, not unlike a decade ago, it fell to him to deliver the unfavorable news.

Taking hold of the wand delicately, he tiptoed along the path that led deeper and deeper into the passage. After awhile it sloped steeply, but Ludo’s stomach no longer dropped when he hit that point. He’d taken this path so many times he could practically count the steps. Using the wand to light his way, he saw the familiar rusted door and pushed it open. A steady drip and rush of the sewers above him confirmed his entrance to the catacombs, which then led to the dungeons.

It was not these places that frightened Ludo, he had become all-too acquainted with them. It was the impending reaction of the one he was to inform that his curse was unfulfilled.

His path grew narrower and shorter until it was just his size, and he forced the wand through the small archway leading to the jail cell. A long table was set up, upon which the sleeping withered form of a lizard-crocodile hybrid rested. Rats milled about, trying to make him comfortable until they saw they had a visitor.

“Shoo, go away!” Ludo shrieked, waving the wand at the rats as they scattered. “We need to talk privately!”

“Ludo…” A low velvety voice emitted from the mouth of the figure on the table, illuminated by the moonlight peaking through the bars of the cell. The birdlike man winced as a squelching sound permeated the silence, and he watched hands grow back into place on the figure’s wrist stumps in amazement.

“General...you’re back!” Ludo cackled in celebration. “It’s happened--you’ve finally fully regenerated after all these years!” He paused, glancing at the wand. “What perfect timing!”

“What are you on about?” General Toffee muttered sleepily, sitting up from his prone position. “Bring me my Wand, now that I can finally hold it again.”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Sir. You see, it’s…” He trailed off, holding up the wand almost sheepishly, gesturing to its smoking green diamond.

“It’s awake,” Toffee rasped, trying to get up quickly but falling back as he grabbed his forehead. “You told me it was unresponsive.”

“It was, I swear it was! Up until about ten minutes ago!” Ludo held his hands up in surrender as Toffee swept his arm down and grabbed the wand from him. “I’m not doing this! It was--!”

“Who?” Toffee stared alarmedly at the pulsing light. “This isn’t possible, all of the royal family is gone. King River died by my own hand, and _you_ finished off the Queen after her insolent daughter was responsible for my fate.”

Ludo’s heart dropped to his knees. “Yes. Yes indeed. I definitely said I did that, didn’t I?”

The reptile slithered his legs off of the table as he swooped down to lean in closer to his subordinate's face. “ _This...is not...possible_ ,” he emphasized in a dangerous monotone.

Ludo swallowed hard. Best to do it quickly, like ripping of a bandage. “What if I told you--purely hypothetically, of course--that I just saw the heir to the throne walking through the castle?”

Toffee’s yellow eyes flashed. “What?”

“Alright you got me, I saw her!” Ludo broke down and confessed. “Star Butterfly, all grown up!”

Newly reformed hands clenched into fists, a low growl sounding from the back of his throat. “The Princess... _alive?”_

“She disappeared that night, I--I was sure she was done for!”

“I’ve been stuck in limbo all these years, while the singular greatest threat to my full possession of the Wand has been roaming around freely?!”

“Umm...sure looks like it, doesn't it?” Ludo’s heart pounded in his head as he watched his old general stand up, allowing himself to regain the feeling of standing on two legs. Any moment now, he was going to strike him a deadly blow. Well, it hadn't been the greatest life, but it was a life nonetheless.

“I don't blame you, Ludo.”

His jaw dropped. “You don't?”

“Of course not,” Toffee patted his head in that condescending way he’d used to. “If I couldn't kill that little brat, there was no way _you_ could.”

“Yes, that's--that’s right!” Ludo exclaimed, overcome with relief before he realized what he was saying. “Hey, wait a m--”

“My old friend,” Toffee drawled softly to the wand, running a fingernail along the jewel’s sharp fractured edges. “A little worse for wear, but still powerful as ever. Don't worry, she'll be dead long before she gets her hands on you.”

“Precisely what I was thinking!” Ludo squawked brightly. “We can lure her with the Wand and--!”

“No!” Toffee shouted, his crazed expression causing the petite creature to jump back. “She can't know the Wand still exists, you hear? You didn't see her that night.” He stared at a fixed point over Ludo’s head, lost to a memory from long ago. “Such a small thing had so much _power_ in her. If she could cause the Wand to take form and dismember my hand as a child…” His face had returned to its neutral calm, but his eyes remained wild as he gazed back down at Ludo. “Imagine how powerful she’ll be as a young woman.”

“So then how do we kill her?” his right hand man asked hungrily.

“With the powers of the dark arts.” Toffee brought his hands together, his fingertips at his lips, concentrating. “I'm ten years out of practice, but I was always a quick study.” Keeping his eyes focused on the chains upon the wall, they began to rattle within moments. With a great scream, Ludo was flung backwards by an invisible force, hitting the wall as the iron links clamped around his tired form.

 _“Yes!”_ Toffee cried out triumphantly, the word dissolving into an unhinged laugh. “With these forces at my beck and call, the unarmed Princess Butterfly will have no chance.”

“Great, your freaky mind powers work! Now can you let me down?” Ludo asked in vain, grunting against his restraints.

Taking up the wand, Toffee drew an oval in the air, a sort of portal with the reflective surface of a mirror taking shape. With a wave of his hand, his own face disappeared. In its place was a vision of Star, cutting through the air with her dimensional scissors. He watched as she hopped into the rip in space, followed by her two companions.

“They're heading to the Earth dimension.” His face split so widely it could have ripped in two, every one of his teeth bared. The disgraced general wanted nothing more than to reach through the liquidated glass and claw at her pretty little face. But no, it was simply a way to watch her every move. Watch Mewni’s crowned princess mock him with her determined smile and fiery eyes--before he was ready to pounce and end her life once and for all.

“Enjoy it all now, little Star. Once I locate you...you're _mine_.”

Ludo sighed. “You're not going to let me down, are you?”

 


	4. Train Of Fools

Star was starting to have second thoughts about embarking on this journey. Not the part where she rode in the rickety old train rolling them towards Paris, she loved that--pushing open the compartment window to let the wintry countryside wind blow against her face. And Rafael was kind and assuring, like the parent she never had, getting her some new clothes and essential items to travel with once her scissors brought them to Earth. Whenever she felt apprehensive about uncovering the life she’d never known, he was there with a smile and sometimes a mug of hot cocoa.

His son on the other hand...well, he might be harmless. But he was also bossy, short-tempered, and borderline insufferable. She didn’t know how much longer she could bear travelling with him.

“Shut the window already, I’m freezing!”

Star rolled her eyes at Marco sitting beside her, cupping his hands over his mouth to blow hot air into them. She obliged with an impudent slam and flopped back against their cushioned compartment seat.

“Now your hair’s a mess,” he went on, raking his fingers through the top of her snow-flecked hair before she smacked his hand away.

“I can fix it myself, thanks,” she snapped, pulling open her carpet bag under her seat and fishing out a brush.

Rafael couldn’t help the small grin on his face, looking over the top of the false travel papers he was drawing up for the three of them. The two young people had been at it since Star’s “royalty training” began, mostly consisting of what Marco had gleaned from scavenging the old palace for years. He figured at some point he should intervene if his son went too far, which he tended to do. But right now the older man was amused, watching them face opposite directions as Marco folded his arms tightly across his chest while Star ran the brush through her tangled gold locks.

“How long is the trip again?” Marco sighed out, catching his father’s eye.

“Four days tops,” Rafael replied simply. He tried desperately not to laugh when the teenagers groaned audibly, making faces at each other.

 _I’ve only got four days to turn this scrappy little orphan girl into the crowned princess of Mewni_. Marco’s stomach twisted into anxious knots. Aside from needing to teach her the in’s and out’s of the Butterfly family line and Mewni’s royal customs, she hardly looked the part of nobility. As she flipped her freshly brushed hair over her shoulder, he examined her dirty face, torn rumpled blue-green dress and holed striped stockings. He only spent a fleeting moment feeling sorry for the conditions she’d had to endure spending her life in that orphanage before getting his mind back on track. Despite her physical resemblance to the princess, they had a long way to go before she’d be able to convince anyone. As for the cheek markings, well, that was nothing a little makeup couldn’t fix.

“Get that thing out of your mouth.” Marco pointed to the broken crystal shard Star was fiddling with again, grinding a corner between her teeth. “And sit up straight! You’re supposed to be a princess, remember?”

Star made a spitting noise just to spite him, hanging her tongue out at him for a couple moments as she shoved the crystal back into her pocket. “How is it that you know what princesses do or don’t do?”

“I make it my business to know,” Marco answered vaguely. Just because they were travelling together didn’t mean this girl needed to know everything about him and his past with the royals. In the end, they were business partners. Nothing more.

“Be nice,” Rafael muttered to him out of the corner of his mouth, scratching his fountain pen away at their fake papers.

“Look, Star,” Marco tried again, turning to face her, “I’m just trying to help, okay?”

“Marco.” She swung her head around closer to his, giving him the sweetest smile she could muster. “Do you _really_ think I’m royalty?”

“You know I do.”

Her charming expression vanished in a flash, “Then stop bossing me around!” And with that, Star hitched her knees up, kicking him to the end of the seat as she lay with her head against the window, sticking the shard in her mouth again.

This time Rafael had to laugh. “What?” he asked at Marco’s withering look, “She certainly has a mind of her own.” Unbeknownst to them, he pulled out a score sheet with their names on it, making a tally mark under Star’s name before quickly stuffing it out of sight.

 _But I need her to have the mind of Princess Butterfly or this isn’t gonna work,_ Marco reminded himself. He could only imagine the look of contempt Queen Moon would give them if they presented Star as she was now, sprawled out on the seat cushions as she watched the landscape fly by outside.

It was stupid of him to think whatever girl they found would just blindly do whatever he told her to. He didn’t have much experience with girls--never had--but he knew they could be tricky and unreadable with assertive independent minds. Even a princess who was bound by the laws of her kingdom could be the most free-spirited of all. It was something he used to admire about his childhood friend. And now this girl’s stubborn attitude easily clashed with his own.

They couldn’t have that. If they wanted this plan to go off without a hitch, Marco and Star were going to have to make an effort to get along.

Rafael blew on the ink and snapped the final travel book closed, tucking it into his front pocket. “I’m going to check our luggage.” He stood up, handing each of them a book before heading out. “Keep the bloodshed to a minimum,” he teased them as he slid the compartment door shut behind him.

“Wow, your dad’s a professional ticket counterfeiter and letter forger,” Star marveled as she flipped through the travel book. “And he’s still a saint compared to you.”

“Alright,” Marco sighed, slapping his palms against his knees. He slid into the seat across from her so she’d have to look at him, but she stubbornly kept her nose buried in the book. “I think somehow we got off on the wrong foot here.”

“I think we did, too.” Star’s eyes darted up, the corners of her mouth rising slightly.

“I was a little too--”

“Well, I appreciate your apology.”

Marco blinked, “Apology? Who said anything about an apology?”

Star narrowed her gaze, “Then don’t talk to me, okay? It’s only gonna upset me.”

“Fine.” _Scratch that ‘getting along’ part._ Marco threw his hands up in surrender, wincing as her boots kicked him over again so she could stretch her feet out on his seat. “I’ll be quiet.”

“At _last_ ,” Star breathed out dramatically.

“I’ll be quiet if you will.”

“Fine, I’ll be quiet!”

“Fine!”

“ _Fine!_ ”

Their stony silence lasted all of thirty seconds, but only because Star couldn’t help being genuinely curious. If she was going to be stuck with this boy for the next few days, she may as well get to know him. “So, do you think you’ll miss it?”

“What, your talking?”

“ _No_.” Star resisted the urge to kick him again. “Are you gonna miss Mewni?”

Marco barely thought about it before shaking his head, leaning it against the window. “Nope.”

“Really?”

“Too many bad memories,” he elaborated, but no further than that. “Why, you gonna miss the orphanage?”

“Nope. Well, the girls maybe--the little ones I looked after. But I could never call it home.” She put the book down and surveyed his blank expression facing the frosted glass. “At least Mewni was your home.”

“It was a place I once lived,” Marco bit out tensely, “End of story.” She was staring at him as if trying to see into his soul, but he refused to budge. Co-workers at best, that was all he wanted from her, and here she was trying to get him to divulge his life story. She didn’t need to know about any of that. She just needed to know enough to become Star Butterfly--and her companionship with the son of two servants was a footnote compared to everything else.

“Then you must plan on making Paris your true home,” Star pressed on.

“What is it with you and homes?” Marco raised his voice in irritation.

Star looked stricken. “Well for one thing, it’s something every _normal_ person wants. Something every kid gets. Every kid except  _me!_ You have your dad--I’ve never had anybody!” She rose from her seat heatedly, “And for another thing--!”

“What?” Marco challenged her, propping his own feet up to block her path. Sure, she didn’t have any parents she could remember. Better than learning to love a mother before she’s suddenly ripped away, leaving a permanent hole in his heart that his father could never fill.

Star stared down at him crossly, their locked gazes giving them both pause. What was it about him that stirred that brief sense of familiarity, leaving as quickly as it came? If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear his eyes reflected the same confusion back at her. All she knew was that it made her lose her train of thought, and she spluttered as she climbed up on the seat to escape him. “Just forget it!”

Right on cue, Rafael slid open the door and Star sighed in relief. “Thank goodness it’s you!” She pointed viciously at Marco, “ _Please_ remove him from my sight!”

“What have you done to her?” Rafael asked exasperatedly.

“Me?!” Marco shouted indignantly. “It was her!”

With a final roar, Star stomped from the compartment, slamming the door so hard it could have cracked.

“She’s impossible,” Marco moaned, covering his face with his hands. “She’s gonna ruin this entire thing, if she doesn’t send me into an early grave first. With her _‘Ooh we gotta take the train!’_ , and her prying questions and her blue eyes just staring at me--”

“Oh no.” Rafael clicked his tongue good-humoredly, looking from him to the door Star had just closed. He knew what was happening, whether Marco liked it or not. “An unspoken attraction.”

 _“Attraction?!”_ Marco jumped up from his seat, staring at his father as if he had three heads. “To that skinny little brat?! Have you lost your mind?!” And just as Star had, he pushed past him, identically slamming the door. Rafael heard him muttering to himself angrily as his footsteps faded away.

“Indeed, _mijo_ ,” he chuckled. “Yes indeed…”

 

* * *

 

As night descended, the train sped along the tracks that wound around the mountainside. The air was colder here, the snow piled up higher, and against the dark blue sky, lights of a cool green color danced in the wind. What no one seemed to notice was the lights slowly morphing into a sickly shade, the waves changing course to shoot like stars down upon the locomotive vehicle.

With a great yawn, Rafael made his way down the narrow train aisle after using the lavatory, hoping the children had finally ceased bickering like a married couple so they could all get some sleep. But he wouldn’t bet on it.

“Hmm, that’s interesting,” a middle-aged woman squeezing past him in the crowded aisle said to her friend, both reading their travel books. “Last month the papers were written in blue. Now they’re red.”

“Well of course,” her younger friend said snobbishly. “Have to take precautions against thieves and con men trying to sneak aboard with fake papers. It makes perfect sense.”

Rafael’s heart hammered in his chest--he hadn’t thought of that. Years of being away from Earth had made him forget how paranoid the various regimes could be compared to the laxity of Mewni. As he saw a guard make his way up the aisle demanding to see passengers’ papers, he rounded the corner swiftly and ducked back into their compartment.

“What’s wrong with _you?”_ Marco asked in a hushed voice, due to Star snoring fast asleep in her bunk, using her overcoat as a blanket. Rafael peeked through the door to check for the guard before snapping it shut.

“It’s what I hate about this government,” he stated grimly. Withdrawing the travel book he’d just falsified earlier that day, he flipped it open to his black-inked pages. “Everything’s in _red_.” Marco’s eyes widened, drawing a shaking breath as Rafael began gathering up their carry-on bags. “I propose we move to the baggage car-- _quickly_ , before the guards come.”

“I propose we get off this train,” Marco added as he clambered around the compartment following suit. He thought he saw a flash of green light up the window for a moment, but had no time to dwell on it as he grabbed various belongings to pass off to Rafael. What a time for his father to slip up after ten years of a nearly flawless track record. But he really couldn’t blame him for not knowing. All that mattered now was getting around the system, and that was where he himself excelled.

After Rafael left to run their things to the baggage car, Marco whirled towards Star’s bunk and shook her to wake her up. “C’mon, we gotta go! And princesses don't snore like that!”

Perhaps it was from being startled awake or his remark about her snoring, or maybe she always did this, but Marco wasn’t prepared when Star flung her arm out and slugged him in the face.

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” she murmured blearily as Marco cried out, falling back onto the seat clutching his nose. “I thought you were--!” Once she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and saw who it was, she relaxed instantly. “Oh it’s you, nevermind then.”

Marco scowled as he grabbed her arm, half-dragging her sleepy form down from the bunk and out into the train aisle. “Baggage car. Now.”

“Why are we--?” Star struggled to get her bearings as she threw her coat back on, Rafael pushing her from behind.

“I think you broke my nose!” Marco’s whine was muffled as he threw his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. If she wasn’t a girl--or an integral part of his scheme--he would’ve karate chopped her in the neck for that.

“Boys are such babies,” Star muttered.

“Enough, both of you!” Rafael scolded as he flung open the door to the next car, shoving them inside while keeping one eye over his shoulder. They didn’t stop moving until they reached the last car behind the engine, which despite the heated coals keeping the train moving, was very cold, dark and drafty with boxes and trunks piled high against the walls.

“Ah yes, this will do nicely,” Marco mused sarcastically, lounging against a couple of crates in the shape of a chair.

“She’ll freeze in here,” Rafael shivered, indicating Star’s thin leg coverings underneath her mid-calf boots.

“She can thaw in Paris,” Marco said scathingly, the sensation of her bony little fist colliding with his face still smarting.

Star took a chance and peeked through the window into the car they just left, seeing the guard cross past their door. Then she looked back at her skittish companions and put two and two together.

“There wouldn’t be anything wrong with our _completely_ legitimate papers, would there my good sirs?” she asked innocently, crossing her arms as she approached them.

“Of course not, Your Highness,” Marco assured her hastily, standing up to take her hand cordially. “It’s just I--uh--hate to see you forced to mingle with, you know--all those _commoners_.”

Star caught Rafael’s thoroughly embarrassed expression and opened her mouth to reply smartly--just as a deafening explosion shook the car violently, throwing the three of them to the floor.

“Marco!” Rafael called out through a coughing fit, searching the dismantled boxes for his son once the smoke cleared.

“What was that?!” Marco shouted irritably from the front of the car.

“I don’t know.” The older man got to his feet, feeling the air whoosh past the doorway where the baggage car had once connected to the rest of the train. Now they had somehow been blown apart. “But there goes the dining car.”

“Get off of me!” Star grunted, she and Marco pinned on top of each other between two toppled towers of crates.

“I’m trying!” Marco retorted after spitting out a mouthful of her long hair. He heard her yelp as he shoved her aside, pushing boxes away as he crawled towards the door leading to the engine. Fire spilled from the top, and Marco pulled his hands back sharply from the scalding hot door as he stared in horror.

“Okay, I don’t know much about trains,” Star panted as she rushed up beside him, “But I don’t think it’s supposed to be doing that.”

“For once, you’re right.” Marco took off his coat and threw it to her, using his shoe to kick the red hot door open without burning himself. “Wait here, I’ll check it out.”

“You’re gonna what?!” Star yelled out, but too late. Marco had already leapt over into the next car and kicked that door open to get inside. Star shook her head disbelievingly--pushy, infuriating _and_ stupid.

“Where is he?” Rafael asked once he made it to the front of the car.

“Oh he’s fine, he just jumped onto a flaming engine,” Star jabbed a thumb behind her. Another explosion shook the two cars and Rafael threw himself in front of the girl to shield her. Green flames mingled in the air with the orange-red ones, and Star furrowed her brow up at the sight. She knew she had seen that sickly-colored smoke somewhere before.

Coughing and sputtering, Marco burst back into view covered in soot, clamoring onto the baggage car as Rafael frantically pulled him inside. “Don’t you _ever_ do that again!”

“We’re going way too fast!” Star cried, bracing herself on the sides of the doorway as the second explosion made them pick up speed.

“Nobody’s driving this train!” Marco shouted fearfully over the squealing wheels and rushing wind. “We’re gonna have to jump!” He and Star leaned their heads over the side of the doorway. The train was now peeling along the side of a cliff overlooking a deadly drop into a frozen river.

Star gave him an incredulous look, sweeping her arm out with exaggerated grandiosity. “After you!”

Marco backed away from the view, running his hands through his hair. “Okay...okay, we’ll unhook the baggage car from the engine.” He pointed at Rafael, “Find me some tools or something.”

“Let me try,” Star made to climb out onto the couplings between the cars, but Marco pulled her back.

“No, you’re too important--I’ll do it.” Normally this would have irked her, but the note of concern in his voice struck a chord within her. She smiled slightly as she gave him an encouraging pat on the back before joining Rafael to search for something to break them free of the flaming engine.

Marco leapt back outside, hammer in one hand and bracing himself with the other as he started banging away at the rusted connectors. Newly rusted--almost as if the two cars had been purposefully melded together. With a loud clank of metal, the hammer broke off in his hand.

Star heard Marco scream out a string of expletives as she slid another crate out of the corner and pried it open. Her eyes lit up excitedly--inside were numerous sticks of dynamite and boxes of matches.

“C’mon, there’s gotta be something in there better than this!” Marco flung his hand out, waiting for Rafael to hand him another tool. Instead Star appeared, striking a match along the wood frame and lighting the wick at the end of the dynamite. With a wide grin, she pressed the sizzling stick into his palm.

Marco’s eyebrows shot up and he nodded, “That’ll work!” Shoving the stick into the couplings, he leapt back inside the car, pushing Star and his father as far back from the impending explosion as possible.

“What do they teach you in those orphanages?” he whispered to her as the three of them huddled behind a wall of metal trunks. Rafael threw himself on top of both of them just as the dynamite blasted the two cars apart.

“Yes!” Star cheered as the engine roared away, the baggage car now rolling along freely.

“But how do we stop?!” Rafael climbed over to the wheel that controlled the car’s brakes, but it had broken off in his hands.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of track,” Marco said.

“Marco--” Star tugged on his sleeve.

“We’ll coast to a stop eventually.”

“Marco!” She grabbed his face and pointed it at the now exposed front of the car. The engine that had broken free illuminated the track in front of them, heading straight for a bridge. A bridge that had been blown apart, green smoke billowing from its remains. And at the rate they were speeding, they didn’t have too long before they reached it. “You were saying?”

Marco looked around frantically at the mess they’d all made and spotted a coiled chain hooked around a pair of freight boxes. “Dad, give me a hand with this!” Grabbing one end of the chain, he dashed towards the end of the car and eased himself slowly out of the doorway. Once he was hanging beneath the carriage, the ground whizzing beneath him dangerously, he latched one hand onto the bar for support.

“Hand me the chain!” he repeated, waiting for Rafael to oblige. To his surprise, Star appeared over him holding one of the hooks. “Not _you!”_

“Raf’s busy at the moment!” she called. And by “busy” she meant he’d lost his balance and fallen into an empty crate.

With a roll of his eyes, Marco snatched the chain from her and attached it to the bar underneath. Suddenly with a loud clatter of metal, shards of shrapnel flew back at him from the front of the car, spitting sparks and fatally sharp pieces. Taken aback, he lost his balance, his hand beginning to slip from the bar.

“No!”

Squeezing his eyes shut as he braced for impact, he felt a smooth slender hand grab his. And as he was hoisted up, found himself inches from Star’s fearful blue eyes, both of them panting puffs of cold air into each other’s faces. With a sickening crunch, the shrapnel cut into and disfigured a tree on the side of the road.

“And to think that could’ve been you.” Star let out a light laugh to diffuse the tension, but he could tell she was still scared by what could have happened to him. He was too, but he’d never admit it out loud.

“If we live through this,” he said as he crawled back into the car, “remind me to thank you.”

“Marco, the chain!” Rafael rushed forward, having recovered, and flung the other end of the chain out onto the tracks like a lasso. The hook bounced twice before finally catching onto one of the railroad tiles.

“Brace yourself,” Marco winced, watching the chain strain to anchor their carriage in place. And once more, the three of them were thrown back as the hook ripped through the tracks, spinning the baggage car around until it plowed sideways down the tracks. But it had slowed considerably, and that was enough for them.

“Well, this is our stop!” Star announced, hitching up her bag. Linking arms with the other two, they leapt right out of the car and into a deep snowdrift. Once she resurfaced, Star whipped her head around to see both the engine and baggage car had careened over the edge of the dismantled bridge, exploding in a fireball at the bottom of the gorge.

“Oh!” Rafael exhaled, flopping backwards into the snow with a hand over his chest as he panted heavily. “I’m getting too old for this. Are you two alright?”

“Yes,” Star said at the same time Marco said “No.”

“Oh, but our Princess is fine,” Marco huffed as he tried to stand in the foot-high drift. “So that’s all that matters.”

Star’s mouth dropped open at him. “We’re _alive_ , what more do you want?!”

“Our passageway to Paris is gone!” Marco shouted. “And to top it all off, we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere! In the _snow!”_

“Marco, we did manage to salvage all of our things--we’ll figure it out,” Rafael assured him, but he wasn’t listening.

Star rubbed the back of her head where it had made contact with the drift as Rafael helped her to her feet. They both watched Marco pace back and forth, kicking up white powder as he went.

“I hate snow,” he muttered. “I hate the cold, I hate winter, I hate everything about it!”

“Yeah, I know!” Star yelled. “But that doesn’t really help our situation right now, does it?!”

Marco stopped wandering at once, gazing at her with that strange look again. “Wait...what did you say?”

“I know you hate snow and cold, but that doesn’t really _help_ right now--”

“You do?” His brow furrowed, “I never told you that.”

“Come on, you two!” Rafael called from further down the drift. “We’ll have to continue on foot until we can arrange for another mode of transportation!” Star picked up Marco’s bag and threw it against his stomach. He doubled over with a gasp as she tossed her hair over her shoulder at him and stalked through the snow behind Rafael.

The boy stared at her retreating form for a moment longer before bringing up the rear. No, he definitely didn’t tell her about hating snow. Not once in any of their conversations. So how did she know?

 

* * *

 

“ _No!_ ”

“See, now if you had just let me down, I bet they would have died in that fiery explosion just like you wanted them to,” Ludo mused simply, trying to ignore the shackles cutting into his wrists and ankles. “Since you didn’t, karma came back to bite you.”

“Shut your beak, you piece of garbage,” Toffee hissed dangerously. He grabbed the edges of his swirling mirror portal in a death grip as he watched the princess saunter away from the wreckage. Completely unharmed. He had calculated each of his moves perfectly to ensure she was killed and she had avoided every single one.

“But look at it this way!” Ludo squawked, determined to stay on his boss’ good side despite it all. “You created a setback in their plans, which means there’s plenty of time for you to come up with your next one.”

“Ludo, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Toffee began in his usual cordial business manner, standing with his hands behind his back. “Why are the objects of our destruction heading to Paris?”

“Um...well…” Ludo laughed nervously. “I _did_ mean to tell you about that.”

“Luckily, now you don’t need to.” Snatching up something from the table in his claw, he swooped down to Ludo’s level. Unfurling it, he revealed the newspaper headline that had sent Mewni into a frenzy. “Queen Moon is alive and well there, isn’t she?”

“I was given false information that night!” Ludo stomped his foot. “I could have killed her! I knew where she was, and then that blasted Earth servant girl sent me in the wrong direction!”

“ _You_ were the stupid one to listen then.” Toffee crumpled the paper in his fist and flicked it aside. “Oh Ludo, I really should just kill you right now.”

“W-well now what good would that do?!” Ludo burst out in a panic, writhing even harder against the chains.

“Exactly,” Toffee nodded with a smirk. “I’m not wasting my powers on you because of a mistake you made a decade ago. Nor will I waste them on the Queen.” He took the wand in his hands, as gently as a priceless gem. “I disarmed her, and her source of power is here with me. She’s no longer a threat.” His face relaxed into a deep frown once more. “But the girl...if she reaches her mother in Paris, she will learn of her birthright. Therefore, she _cannot_ reach Paris.” He waved his hand in the air, and the mirror portal vanished. “I’ve been thinking too small, Ludo. Too superficially.”

“Small? That was spectacular!” Ludo exclaimed. “If you couldn’t send her over a cliff in flames, then how can you possibly destroy her worse than that?”

“I tried to break her physically,” Toffee went on as if he wasn’t even there, pacing away from him as his tail swished fervently. “It was her resourcefulness that pulled her through.” His fingernail scratched thoughtfully into the jewel atop the wand, making a slight squeaking sound. “When I disarmed Moon, I tapped into her fear…” He smiled.

“I have something much better in mind, Ludo. Something more enticing than a runaway train. Something really _cruel_.”

If he was truly going to destroy the princess, then he needed to reach her deepest most vulnerable core. He needed to break her spirit.

 


	5. Born In A Palace By The Sea

“Angie, _mi amado!”_ Rafael called happily as he danced around in a field of flowers. “Your Rafael is on his way!”

Following the spontaneous fiasco with the train, the trio had been set back in their plans by a good few weeks. Stopping in town after town, Rafael managed to get them back on course by nicking various maps from travel lodges. So here they were now, walking to a bus stop that would take them to Germany where a boat would be waiting for them. And finally, they would be in Paris. Finally, Star would get the answers she yearned for.

But in hearing the middle-aged man bring up an unfamiliar name, that only raised even more questions. “Who’s Angie?” she asked.

“Aw Dad, really?” Marco groaned as Rafael placed a crown of fresh spring flowers on his head identical to his own. He watched in mortification as his father ran around the forest clearing they were passing through, picking up more flowers and giggling like an absolute fool. In retrospect, it was understandable. Here was a man who hadn’t seen his wife since a palace revolt tore them apart, and was now closer than ever to being reunited with her. It only made sense for him to keep both his and Marco’s spirits up after weeks of taking back roads and sleeping in musty motels. Removing the flower crown daintily with his thumb and index finger, Marco slapped his red beret back down over his head and went up to Star to address her quizzical look. “She’s--”

“Who _is_ she?” Rafael sang out like a lovestruck schoolgirl. “A vision, the eighth wonder of the world, the physical manifestation of Aphrodite herself--”

“Is this a person or a goddess?” Star raised her eyebrows, then brightened as Rafael placed a flower crown on her head as well. “Aw, thank you!”

“Angie is--” Marco was cut off once more as Rafael grabbed his hands and swung him around like he was a little boy again.

“‘Goddess’! That’s the word I was looking for!”

“Dad,” he said under his breath, glancing at Star admiring her flower crown over his shoulder. “I really didn’t want you to bring her up until we got--”

“She’s elegance, sunshine, perfection, intelligence, grace--!”

“Angie is my mother,” Marco said to Star once he freed himself from the long gone Rafael. “And the Queen’s lady-in-waiting--or, uh, _was_ her lady-in-waiting. They escaped together the night of the siege.”

“Wait wait wait wait,” Star spluttered out, waving her hands in the air as if to clear it of all confusion. “Why are we going to see your mother? I thought we were going to see the Queen herself.”

Marco pressed his palms to his eyes. _Well, the cat’s out of the bag now._

“Marco?” Star asked more loudly and sharply.

“Okay, don’t get mad,” he said, pulling her aside, “But I may have neglected to mention that...we have to convince my mom that you’re Princess Star before we can even get _near_ the Queen.”

Back when he had been auditioning girls for the part, his father had been keeping up with correspondence with his mother on the matter. She had apparently been drilling girls with questions who had come forward to present themselves--everything from Star Butterfly’s favorite sweets to the name of her great-great-grandmother. All had been harshly turned away by Queen Moon, dismissed as fakes and liars. This was by and large going to be the hardest part of pulling off his plan, and not just because the queen was a force to be reckoned with. Essentially, they were also going to have to lie to his mother’s face. And that was where his moral compass was at a crossroads.

Star’s mouth fell open. “Oh no,” she shook her head frantically, backing away from him. “No, nononononono--!”

“Star--Star, calm down.” Marco went to take her hand but she snatched it away, whirling around to glare at him, her eyes flashing frantically.

“Neither of you ever told me I had to _prove_ I was the Princess!” She grabbed at the ends of her hair, tugging anxiously. “Show up, look nice--oh sure, I can do that! But I’m not gonna lie to a Queen’s lady-in-waiting, Marco!”

“You don’t even know if it’s a lie,” Marco pointed out, “What if it’s true?”

Star heard him talking, but she wasn’t listening. Staring down at her worn clothes, feeling her sticky unkempt hair, she bit down on her lip as she tried not to cry. “Look at me. I’m not exactly Princess of Mewni material here.”

“I thought you wanted to see this through to the end, no matter what it took,” Marco said in a softer tone. From where he stood, the sun created a halo of pink and yellow around Star’s flower-crowned head, gleaming off the natural gold of her hair. He wanted to say she looked the part now more than ever--but that would’ve sounded weird, and she was rattled enough as it was. Letting out a frustrated, hopeless sigh, Star stomped up the path onto the footbridge ahead.

“We’ve put her through an awful lot in such a short amount of time,” Rafael mused as he came up behind his son, having finally snapped out of his romantic trance at their argument.

“I know,” Marco said with a hint of what Rafael could only interpret as regret. “And if we don’t do something quick, she’s gonna snip herself a portal right back to the orphanage.” She still had the scissors tucked away in her belt. Nothing was stopping her.

“Give us a moment.” Rafael patted Marco on the shoulder, who eyed him warily before moving down towards the riverside. Star had roughly taken off her flowers and flung them over the side of the bridge before throwing herself onto the bench overlooking the water. By the time the older man had sat down beside her, she looked utterly lost, hugging herself with her shoulders hunched over.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her long hair hiding her face from view. “I wanna know who I am and where I came from. But...I can’t be this person you want me to be.”

“Come now,” Rafael said soothingly, wrapping an arm around her as she sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Who do you believe you are then?”

“A skinny little nobody,” Star choked out. “With no past, and no future.”

“Nonsense,” Rafael shook his head. “I’ve been watching you these past few weeks, Star. And I’ve seen it in you. Flashes here and there of a fiery, fearless young woman with an itch to take charge of her own destiny.” He removed his own crown of forget-me-nots and placed it on her head, which managed to make the corners of Star’s mouth tug upwards. “You have courage and strength comparable _only_ to the Mewni royal family.”

“How do you know that?”

“I would know better than anyone.” The girl sat up and faced him curiously as Rafael went on. “Moon Butterfly, your mother--” He gave her a knowing look, “She had just been crowned Queen when I arrived in Mewni. I had nothing except a bag slung over my shoulder, a few coins in my pocket and a passion for cooking. My parents were gone and I was completely on my own, desperately in need of survival means. So I showed up in court one day and whipped up a few dishes, which very much impressed Moon’s new husband River. So much so that he hired me on the spot.”

“Talk about luck!” Star exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Indeed,” Rafael laughed. “Taking that chance was the best decision I ever made. In spending day and night in Butterfly Castle, I made many close friends and colleagues.” His eyes misted over, staring off into space as Star leaned over to try and make eye contact with him again. “And I met her…”

“Angie?” Star guessed with the air of one who already knew the answer, wagging her eyebrows.

“A servant girl who had been there since she was young, and already knew the castle’s inner workings like the back of her hand. She helped me win the royals’ favor, and in time she won my heart. Her duties as Moon’s lady-in-waiting tripled when she became Queen, leaving our rendezvous confined to the evenings. But the time we _did_ have together was...oh well, you get the idea.” He caught himself as the girl grew starry-eyed at his love story with her chin cupped in her hands. “Angela was always such a hard worker and put her loyalties to the royal family first. Even up until the very end.”

He looked quickly over at Star, “But I do not resent her for it, never once. That is who she was and always will be.” He shook his head, “I don’t know where we would have ended up if we hadn’t been so dutiful.”

“What do you mean?” Star asked, sliding closer to him on the bench.

“One night, Angie came to me in tears,” Rafael said softly, his glazed eyes lost to memories most dear to him. “She had run away from home and was living in the palace now. Because, well…she had just found out she was carrying our child.”

Star’s blue eyes grew wide, and she followed Rafael’s gaze to the river bank where Marco was skipping rocks skillfully across the water. “So that’s why you know so much about the Butterfly family...you all lived in the palace together.”

Rafael nodded, “We had to tell your parents the truth. Since we were not married at that time, we were terrified that we were going to be thrown out into the street. But quite the contrary, the King and Queen agreed to provide us everything we needed, in thanks for our faithful service. I can never repay them for their generosity.” He smiled back down at Star, “Marco was born in the spring, healthy and happy. And being allowed to grow up in the palace, his future was secure. Until that night…”

“The big revolution?” Star prodded, watching his expression darken.

“The conflict between Mewmans and monsters took many lives, even after the war was over. One general was hellbent on revenge against the royal family, and it destroyed Mewni as we knew it forever.” He fixated on Marco pacing the side of the river, his eyes glittering with a sort of remorse that broke Star’s heart. “Angie was separated from us that night. I know it is selfish, and I should be grateful that she and my son are alive at all when so many others are not. But...Marco has been forced to grow up without his mother for ten years. It’s why he acts out the way he does--hides behind a mask of bitterness to ignore the pain. It has been difficult for me as well, but it’s him that I truly worry about.”

“I had no idea,” Star whispered, placing a hand on Rafael’s arm.

“It’s alright, my dear,” Rafael patted the top of her hand as he stood her up from the bench. “You are here now. And with you comes a ray of hope for all of us.”

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and they both turned to see Marco leaning against the railing of the bridge. Star locked eyes with him, everything his father had just told her still fresh in her mind, and instantly felt awful about their falling out. In the end, they weren’t that much different. Two kids just surviving by any means necessary while trying to make sense of a world that hadn’t been fair to them. From that moment on, Star vowed to make an effort to be nicer to Marco, no matter how annoying he was.

“I’m sorry,” she said timidly, nibbling on her fingernail as he approached her. “For yelling at you.”

“Yeah well…” Marco looked down at his shuffling feet, “Sorry if you felt like I was pressuring you. And sorry for not telling you about my mom.” He gave her a lopsided grin, “If it makes you feel any better, she’s really nice. Well, from what I remember anyway.”

“But is she really gonna believe I’m the Princess?” Star sighed out unhappily.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Marco said, his tone suggesting encouragement but came off more as pleading. He caught Rafael’s look out the corner of his eye, warning him not to push her.

“Star, there is nothing left for you back there,” the older man said quickly as her fingers traveled down to her belt where the scissors were strapped. “Nor is there anything left for us on Mewni.” He winked at Marco, who gave him a brief half-smile back. “Everything is in Paris.”

Her hand slid past the scissors and went to her pocket instead, squeezing the gold shard before looking out at her reflection in the sparkling sunlit water. She still had Rafael’s flower crown on and touched it thoughtfully. He was right, as usual. Like Marco, her only chance at finding home and a family lay in Paris. And whether she was actually Princess Star Butterfly or not, she wasn’t going to accomplish anything by turning back once things became too much to handle. If she wanted to solve this mystery, then she needed to do her part.

“Gentlemen,” she announced, standing up straight and tall as she took off her crown and placed it on Marco’s head with a grin. “Start your teaching.”

 

* * *

 

“Who’s your grandmother’s youngest sister?” Marco asked, sitting across from her at the table in their bus compartment a week later with a book of Mewnian royal history propped open.

“Lady Etheria Butterfly,” Star recited with her eyes closed, as if doing so would make her remember better. She sipped confidently from a teacup, keeping her pinky at a perfect ninety degrees like they had shown her.

“Good. And the name of your first unicorn?” Rafael said in a muffled voice as he swished a toothbrush around in his mouth.

“Henry!” Star piped up. “I can remember that one ‘cause I really like that name.”

“Your Aunt Felicity’s first husband ‘mysteriously’ disappeared--what was the name of her second trophy husband?”

“Oh--oh don’t tell me, I know this one…” Star knitted her brow together as she contracted her posture nervously, biting her thumbnail clean off. “Uncle--Uncle Heart--oh boy, uh--Uncle Heartthrob?”

“No, _Heartrude!”_ Marco slammed his hands down on the book, making Star jump. “I just told you this fifteen minutes ago!”

“That wasn’t a fair question,” Rafael reprimanded him after he’d spit into the sink.

“Well it’s not gonna be a fair interrogation,” Marco countered as Star buried her face in her hands, moaning as she slumped over in her chair. “They could ask her anything.”

“Moon despised Heartrude, she’s not going to expect Star to know about him,” Rafael shot back. Hearing Star let out a little whimper, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Keep your back straight, elbows in--”

“I don’t _want_ to!” Star exploded, and now it was the men’s turn to jump ten feet in the air. “I have gotten eight hours of sleep this week and I’ve _had it!_ Between memorizing all these people’s names, walking with books on my head, learning all these foods and creatures and customs I’ve never even heard of--and when I’m _not_ memorizing them, I’m worrying about whether I can pull this off at all!” She panted as she peered up at both of them with crazed bloodshot eyes.

“You have to be practically in top form by the time we board the boat,” Marco said as calmly as he could. “‘Cause after that, it’s two days ‘til Paris. I think you--”

“You know what I think? ‘Cause I know you all care _so_ much about what _I_ think. I think you’re--” she pointed to Rafael “--a phony aristocrat obsessed with manners. And _you’re_ \--” she swung her finger around so fast she almost hit Marco in the face, her fingernail grazing the end of his nose “--an impossible, demanding little cockadoodie _prick!”_ With one last shriek, she swept her arm out and knocked the book to the floor. “I hate you both! So just shut up and leave me be!”

“Star.” Rafael grabbed her arm with one hand as she made to storm off while pushing Marco, who was about to physically confront her, back down into his seat. “Star...look at me.”

“I didn’t mean all that,” she gulped tearfully with her arm over her eyes, “I just wanna _sleep_.”

“Of course you do. And of course we care about you and how you feel.” Rafael led her back to her chair and seated her gently. They’d worn her down throwing all of these facts and etiquette lessons at her, so much so that even Marco felt bad for her despite the name-calling.

“Here,” Marco’s face grew a bit red as he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her to dry her eyes. “Dad can take over, I’m turning in.” Star seemed a bit surprised by his sudden kindness, but dabbed at her face gratefully all the same.

“Just a few more questions, I’ll help you.” Rafael looked at her over the top of the book he retrieved from the floor. “I’m proud of you, Star. I know you can do this.”

“We both do.”

Star heard Marco’s reply, but when she turned towards the doorway to thank him, he had slipped out of sight. She had no idea why, but something about hearing Marco’s vote of confidence gave her a new burst of adrenaline. Straightening her shoulders against the chair back once more, she grabbed the book from Rafael and placed it on top of her head, balancing it effortlessly.

“Alright, I’m ready,” she said, gingerly picking up her teacup and taking another sip. “Ask me anything.”

 

* * *

 

“Mewnian New Year’s colors?” Marco called out, dragging their bags up the wooden ramp onto the steamboat from the dock in Germany.

“Cerulean!”

“What did you and your father do every Sunday afternoon in the summer?”

“Go on picnics in the park,” Star nearly cut him off, skipping down the steps that led to the underside of the boat deck. “I’d always chase after the butterflies, and he would stop me before I ran into the poppy field and got a rash on my legs. ‘Cause I’m--”

“--allergic to poppies.” Marco looked at her sideways, “I didn’t tell you that part.”

“Really? Huh, guess your dad must have.”

“Alright Princess, I’ll get you a refreshment once we put these in our room,” Marco grunted as he kicked open the door to their cabin. “How do you take your tea?”

Star smirked at him over her shoulder. “I don’t like tea. I’ll have a lemonade please.”

“ _Very_ good,” Marco nodded, impressed that she dodged his curveball. “We just might pull this off.”

“What?”

“Er--I think you’re almost ready, right on schedule,” Marco quickly corrected himself. He reached for the flat square box he had tucked under his arm and handed it to her. “Here, you’ve earned this.”

“For me?” Star said, clearly touched. “Marco, that’s so sweet!”

“Well I figured you’d need something a little nicer to wear, we are going to see the former Queen of Mewni after all.” Marco rubbed the back of his neck as Star untied the string and took the lid off. She gasped happily as she pulled out a simple yet pretty light blue sundress with a flowing skirt.

“Oh my goodness Marco, this is so... _huge_.” Her excitement decreased as she stood and held the dress up to her body. It wrapped all the way around her and still left a little fabric hanging. “Yikes.”

“How was I supposed to know what your size was?” Marco shrugged defensively. “What was I gonna do, measure you when you weren’t looking?”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate you not doing that,” Star deadpanned.

“You’re welcome,” Marco said shortly, heading for the door. “Just put it on and let me see how it looks.”

As he went back out into the hall, Star gazed for a moment at the door he let close behind him, then back down at the dress. It was the thought that counted, really. No one had ever bought her anything before, let alone something to make her feel so lovely.

And what Marco didn’t know was that Jacqueline back at the orphanage had taught her how to sew, and that Star had been tailoring her own clothes to fit her for a few years now. But it was more fun to watch Marco squirm around trying to make up for buying the wrong size.

 _Maybe I just like teasing him_ , she thought as she twirled idly around the room with the dress up against her. _Yeah, that’s probably it._

 

* * *

 

“A-hem!”

Marco and Rafael had been so engrossed in a game of chess on the boat deck that they hadn’t even noticed the sun beginning to set, the deck emptying as people filed down below for dinner. Amidst them, a very attractive young girl had strolled up the steps, her long blonde hair brushed and weaved into a long braid down her back and wearing a flowing blue dress--

 _Wait, I bought that dress!_ Marco nearly fell off the crate his bottom was perched on when he realized the girl was Star. _Wow_. It was remarkable, the wonders a wardrobe change could do sometimes.

“So, how do I look?!” she asked eagerly, giving the skirt a twirl.

“ _Muy hermosa, mi niña!_ ” Rafael clapped his hands together as she spun for them.

“That’s good, right?” Star asked quickly aside to Marco, still a little lost when Rafael slipped into his native tongue.

“Yeah--yeah, that’s good.” He tried his best to not sound bowled over, but it was difficult once she posed against the setting sun on the horizon. “Really good.”

“Now you are dressed for a ball, Your Highness,” Rafael said, giving the back of her hand a kiss, “And you must learn to dance for one.” Marco was about to sneak away, certain this was something his father would be better fit to teach--until Rafael snapped his fingers in his direction. “Marco. Come here.”

“Wha--me?!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “I haven’t been to a ball since I was--!”

“Your height works better,” the older man said briefly as he hauled him over by the arm, standing him directly in front of Star. Indeed, he only stood a couple inches taller than her. “Now take her waist.”

“Take her--?!”

“C’mon Marco,” Star whined, “It’ll be fun.” She held up her arms in a ballroom dance pose eagerly, and Marco bit his lip as he carefully cupped his hand around her waist, taking her own hand with the other.

“Closer.” Rafael placed a hand in-between each of their shoulder blades and pushed until their faces were a little too close for comfort. “I’ll count out the waltz: One two three, one two three--”

“Ouch!” Star cried out as Marco’s foot crunched her toes.

“Dad!” Marco dropped his arms, “I haven’t done this since I was a kid!”

“You’re fine, just stop overthinking it,” Rafael positioned his son’s arms so they were around a now disgruntled Star again. “Star, you don’t lead--let him. And one two three, one two three--”

“Gah!” Marco yelped as Star kicked his shin.

“Star!” Rafael scolded her, “You did that on purpose.”

She flashed a mischievous smile, “Sorry, couldn’t help it. Let’s go for real this time.” Rafael began to count the beats again and they stepped in rhythm. Stiffly at first, they slowly gliding across the wooden planks, moving more as a unit the longer they danced. Star spun out under Marco’s arm, then twirled back against him, then he guided her until they were almost against the ship’s railing. Rafael had stopped counting a long time ago, but neither of them had noticed.

“You know...that dress, it--it looks better on you than it did on the hanger,” Marco feebly tried to spark conversation between them.

“Uh, thank you? I think?” Star laughed lightly, then stopped when she felt how tense his shoulders had gotten. Giving compliments clearly didn’t come easy to him, and she gave him a real smile. “I mean...thanks, Marco.”

Something about the way she said his name, almost like she had softly sung it to him, wrapped around his chest like an embrace. His eyes never left hers, and their gazes had never been this close in proximity before. It was just the resemblance, it had to be. It was the only reason his thoughts were bringing him back to those long-buried memories. Those same sparkling blue eyes--no, rather eyes that looked just like those of the little princess lost to him long ago.

Star didn’t know why she had felt the urge to lead the waltz. Nor why when she swayed with him, she was suddenly back in the ballroom at the old Butterfly Castle, surrounded by swirling dancers. What she did recognize was the overwhelming sensation that they were doing something right. Almost as if they had completed something they once said they would do together.

_But you didn’t even know Marco until a few weeks ago. This isn’t possible._

_Unless..._ Her heart jolted when she noticed a small mole under Marco’s right eye. Had that always been there? And why did it stick out to her so much?

Someone else did, too. Someone she had cared about...a friend...

“Marco?” she asked reflexively.

“Yeah?”

“Did you--?” She stopped herself. She couldn’t ask him this, it sounded crazy even in her head. Maybe she _was_ crazy for all she knew. After a lifetime of getting flashes of unfamiliar images she tried to piece together to no avail, it wouldn’t surprise her. And now, for some reason, she actually cared about Marco’s perception of her.

“Star, what’s wrong?” Marco asked concernedly as he leaned her against the railing mid-waltz.

“I...I guess I’m feeling a little dizzy.” _Good save, Star._

“Oh right, probably from all that spinning.” He kept his arms around her waist as she clutched his shoulders for support. “You’re...you’re doing really well, Star. I mean it.”

Star’s gentle smile grew more wistful, “I couldn’t have done any of this without you. _I_ mean it.”

And suddenly the haunting sense had been lifted, replaced with something different. Where before they had felt both chilled and heated at once, now only warmth remained, spreading to the tips of their fingers. Neither of them knew nor cared how close they were standing now, the glow surrounding them like a protective shield from the outside world.

But Rafael knew. Watching the children from the doorway leading below deck, he saw Marco gently hold Star as she became winded, and the way his eyes softened as they gazed into hers. He had seen the signs for a little while now, but silhouetted against the orange and purple sky, it couldn’t have been clearer to him.

 _How could you do this, Raf? This had been strictly business, as the con man you are. And as a father, you promised you’d protect him from heartbreak._ But there was nothing he could do.

His son was falling in love. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Star just might be as well.

 


	6. In The Dark Of The Night

All three of them had been so spellbound by the beautiful sunset on the water that they ignored the purple clouds turning to navy and green the darker the sky became. Star shifted around on her cot restlessly later that night, struggling to get comfortable while the boat rocked beneath them. As she undid her braid and began brushing out her hair, the door to their cramped cabin slid open and Rafael stumbled inside, hanging onto the bunk bed for support.

“No doubt about it now, there’s a bad storm coming,” he said, pressing a hand to his mouth nauseously, his face a bit peaky. “I’ll be lucky if I sleep at all tonight.”

“Are you alright?” Star asked in concern, glancing at him sideways.

Rafael opened his mouth to answer before clamping it shut again, his cheeks puffing out. “Mmm--mm-hmm--sure. Just green with _envy_. Look at him.” He waved a hand across the room at Marco, curled up under three blankets on the floor. “He can sleep through anything. Always could, even as a child.”

“Lucky,” Star grumbled, focusing on Marco since the sight of Rafael’s nausea was starting to make her sick as well. He looked kind of sweet when he was asleep. _Yeah, because he’s not forcing princess etiquette down your throat and boring you with royal family trees for once._

The boat lurched to the side and both Star and Rafael braced themselves, watching their baggage and other belongings skid across the floor. A sharp pinging sound came from the table over Star’s head and she felt something hit the floor. She gasped. It was the golden shard.

“No--nononono!” she exclaimed, rolling out of bed as the fragment slid away, nearly disappearing under the door. She managed to catch it just in time as the boat righted itself, jerking everything back into place. She let out a great sigh of relief and clutched the piece to her chest, crawling back to her cot.

“Good catch,” Rafael said weakly as he slowly continued his ascent to the top of the bunk.

“I can’t lose this,” Star muttered half to herself. “I _can’t_.”

“Because it is your only clue?”

“Maybe?” Star furrowed her brow as the boat swayed again, leaning her back against the table legs. “I thought it was just the only constant I’ve ever had, but now I don’t know. It’s strange, but...I feel like I’m starting to remember more.”

“Really?” The older man’s eyes lit up despite his illness.

“All I know is that whatever this thing is, it’s really important.” She stuck the shard safely under her pillow as a rumble of thunder sounded. “And I need to hold onto it.” A tight laugh escaped her, “Sorry--I’m starting to sound crazy again.”

“You sounded crazy before?”

“Well, when Marco and I were dancing, I might’ve almost said something a little…” She trailed off as she felt Rafael’s eyes on her, and she looked up to see him grinning. “No! No, I didn’t mean--it wasn’t anything like that, I-- _no_. Nothing happened. We just danced.”

“Alright dear.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, which only infuriated Star even more. It was bad enough that she was trying to convince herself, and now his father’s teasing smile wasn’t making things easier. “What do you say we try to rest? We have a big couple of days ahead of us.”

“That’s for sure,” Star snuggled down under her blanket as Rafael turned out the light. Rattling off facts and figures about the Butterfly family legacy and Princess Star’s life were coming to her with ease now, but she still wasn’t sure if that was going to be enough to prove herself to the queen or this Angie person. Anyone could find out everything they needed to know about the royal family if they looked in enough books. It was the little personal touches that made the true difference between an imposter and the real deal.

And the amnesiac little orphan girl from Echo Creek didn’t have that advantage any more than the other young women who had presented themselves did. To even entertain the thought of being accused a fraud pierced deeply at Star’s rather fragile heart beneath her toughened skin. At the same time, she knew it was a chance she needed to take. They all knew that.

“Pleasant dreams, Your Royal Highness,” Rafael whispered in the darkness, and Star smiled despite her doubts beneath the covers.

“You too…”

 

* * *

 

“Pleasant dreams, Princess Butterfly.”

“You know, she doesn’t look like much of a threat when she’s asleep,” Ludo remarked to his fallen general, munching eagerly on the scraps of corn the rats fed him as he remained chained to the wall of the castle dungeon.

“Indeed,” Toffee muttered complacently. “She’s in her most vulnerable state. Now, I go to work.” Holding out his scaled hands palms up, green smoke emitted from them, aiming his spell at the liquidated mirror before him. Ludo watched in amazement as the smoke penetrated the reflection and swirled around the image of Star Butterfly’s sleeping form.

“I’ve got you in the one place where you can’t escape me.” The smoke morphed from green to blue as it surrounded the girl--the rich royal blue of Mewni. The incorporeal creatures transformed into butterflies, just like her namesake. His demented smile spread once more as he watched her yawn contentedly, rolling over in her bed as the ghostly insects fluttered around her head.

“Your own mind.”

 

* * *

 

_“Star! Wake up, my precious!”_

_Her eyelids fluttered open and suddenly she was lying outside in a beautiful field. At first it seemed not unlike an Earth field of flowers, but the red blossoms beside her seemed to glow with a supernatural aura. The sky above her twinkled with stars and planets, even though it was daytime._

_Standing over her was a stout man with a long blond beard that reached his middle and a thick moustache. A gold crown with fuchsia jewels sat atop his balding head._

_King River Butterfly of Mewni. Her father._

_“You mustn't lay in the poppy field,” he said warmly, taking her hands and helping her to her feet. It was then Star realized what she was wearing--a jeweled ball gown in multiple shades of blue, layered in petticoats and laced up her torso. A tiara was pinned into her hair which waved and curled down her back. Dressed as a true princess, just like the ones in the storybooks she used to read._

_“Come, dearest.” River offered her his arm and she took it graciously. It was a warm and comforting gesture that filled her with a sense of belonging. He patted the top of her hand, “They’re waiting for you.”_

_As he steered her around, Star beheld the beautiful sight in awe. Off in the distance, the towers of Butterfly Castle sparkled in the sunlight._

 

* * *

 

Star rose from the creaking cot, her eyes still closed, her dreams still taking hold of her consciousness. Her arm slipped through an invisible escort’s and she began to walk towards the cabin door. As she stepped around all the luggage, her foot barely grazed Marco’s head on the floor. She slid open the door quietly and slipped out into the hall.

The court was waiting for her, and she couldn’t be late this time…

 

* * *

 

_A pair of doors opened and a voice called her name: “Announcing Her Royal Highness, Princess Star Butterfly!”_

_A great cheer rose up from the members of the court, all lining the aisle as she walked into the ballroom with her father. She gaped at her surroundings--the ghostly shell of the castle she had seen a month ago was now fully restored to its former glory. Yet there seemed to still be something rather unusual about it, the way it glowed in an unnaturally blinding light._

_At the end of the hall, the thrones rose above the nobility crowding the floor, and a tall slender figure stood awaiting her as Star continued her trek down the aisle._

_“To my daughter, Star Butterfly!”_

_“Mom?” she whispered._

_“On this, her fourteenth birthday.” Queen Moon Butterfly raised a glass of bubbling liquid as the rest of those present followed suit. “May she be granted decades more to come.”_

_“To Princess Star!” the room echoed._

 

* * *

 

The boat leaned with the wind as it whipped with all the strength of a typhoon. Star smiled in her sleep at the crowd of adoring subjects around her, unaware of the seawater welling around her ankles as she climbed the steps to the upper deck. She held the railing, but did not lurch violently with the rest of the boat. As if something was holding her in place, guiding her safely to an unknown destination.

Back in the cabin, everything else had rocked within the storm’s wrath. Trunks and luggage careened across the floor, smacking into the opposite wall with one thud after another. The corner of one of the metal trunks collided with Marco’s arm, startling him awake. Digging his nails into one of the loose floorboards, he managed to avoid rolling into the wall as well and only let go when the boat veered back to center.

“Wha--Dad?” Marco murmured sleepily. “What’s going on?”

As he peered across the room, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, he saw Rafael tossing and turning in his sleep on the upper bunk, moaning due to his sea sickness. And underneath him--

Star’s bed was empty.

Marco’s heart jolted as water seeped into the room under the crack in the door, soaking his hands and bottoms. They couldn’t leave their cabins during a storm. But she wasn’t here.

“Star…” His instincts kicked in, telling him something was definitely not right. Struggling to his feet, he stumbled out the cabin door and hung onto the walls of the lower deck as the ship continued to rock.

“Star!” he shouted at full voice over the waves and thunder. Nothing. If she wasn’t in the lower deck, then--

His eyes traveled to the flooded steps leading to the top deck, where the storm was raging in full force.

Was she _insane?_

 

* * *

 

_“And now, as is tradition, I shall bestow upon the Princess our family’s most treasured heirloom.”_

_The lights from the chandeliers were so bright that Star could barely make out the queen’s face, let alone what she was holding. Deepening herself into a low curtsy, she kept her head bowed and waited for the queen to approach her._

_Moments passed and nothing happened. The room had gone eerily silent._

_“Come forward, Star,” her mother’s voice pierced the still air so sharply that she jumped. “Come and claim your birthright.”_

 

* * *

 

In her mind, the end of the aisle stopped in front of the glittering thrones of the Mewnian palace. In reality, she was standing on the edge of the ship’s railing overlooking the raging waters below. Lighting forked through the sky around her, wind and thunder violently tossed the boat. And yet she still stood contentedly in mid-dream, eyes closed and feet poised on the rail like a ballerina.

Her mother had beckoned her closer, and she lifted her foot to obey. Until a sharp scream soared over the storm.

“ _Star!_ ”

 

* * *

 

_The princess stopped in mid-step, a cold chill washing over her. Something was off about this. She looked quickly around at the court, but everyone beamed identically in her direction. The ballroom was still far too bright, sunlight from the multitudinous windows gleaming off the reflective marble floor and walls. Her father, too, gave her an encouraging smile that did not reach his eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed this before?_

_“Star?” Her mother paused before primly going on. “We’re waiting.”_

_She noticed something dark underneath her skirt and quickly hiked it up. The white heeled shoes that complimented her dress were covered in mud. Her eyes widened. This had happened. She remembered tracking mud into the castle._

_“I’m sorry!” she called out desperately. But it was too late, she had blown her chance in front of the queen._

_Her mother’s tongue made a clicking sound. “You’re taking too long.”_

_And then a loud crack shot through the air, followed by a dull thud. Star whirled around and nearly screamed, covering her mouth with her gloved hands. Her father had crumpled to the floor, eyes wide open and glassy. Blood leaked out of his mouth onto the pristine marble tiles, his head and neck bent at a grotesque angle._

_He never moved again._

 

* * *

 

Marco had managed to yell out her name before a wave splashed over the side of the ship railing, drenching him in freezing saltwater. Once he resurfaced coughing and spluttering, he fought against the winds as he grabbed onto stationary deck tables, chairs and anything else he could get his hands on to pull himself across the deck.

Star stood on the railing overlooking a deadly drop into the sea, her long hair whipping in the rain-soaked wind, her nightgown fluttering around her bare legs. Yet she remained steadfast. She had never sleepwalked before in the weeks they had spent together, and nothing in the storm seemed to be throwing her off balance. Something else was at work here.

But all of that speculation needed to wait until after he’d gotten her away from the edge. If Marco didn’t get there in time, there was no doubt she was going to jump.

“Star,  _stop!_ Get away from there!”

 

* * *

 

_“Dad!” Her whole body shuddered as she backed away from the horrific sight. The lights began to dim, further and further until the brilliant yellow sunlight had become a threatening dark red. The king’s blood trailed across the floor, a chilled breeze blew through the room, and Star stared up at her mother’s figure shrouded in shadow._

_“Do something!”_

_“You must come to me,” the queen’s voice drifted towards her once more, calm and unperturbed. “Come, darling, and everything will be alright.”_

_She made to step forward again, but some invisible force kept her rooted to the spot. A voice in the back of her mind, telling her to stop. Another crack sounded and she let out a strangled cry, followed by a few more as another handful of bodies dropped in a bloody mangled mess. Terror gripped her as the room began to spin, yet she was frozen in place, trembling violently._

_“I want to!” Star pleaded, tears cascading down her cheeks. “But I--”_

_“Then you must hurry.” Her mother’s tone shifted in mid-sentence. It was no longer calm but stricken with great fear, as if she had suddenly realized the danger. Her voice conveyed urgency, yet she did not move. “Hurry, Star!”_

_“Mom!” Bodies continued to fall around Star as sickly green smoke fogged the room. The same smoke that had spewed from the runaway train engine. Hearing her mother’s voice, telling her to hurry...she remembered that, too. It filled her with the most paralyzing dread that had ever consumed her as sobs mingled with her shudders, tears still dripping incessantly. “Mom, I can’t!”_

_“You must! To save us, you must take this!” She held up the indistinguishable object. “Quickly!”_

_The windows around the ballroom shattered all at once, glass and fire erupting from every corner as Star ducked to shield herself. Voices of those dearly departed echoed, overlapping in her ears._

_“Save us...save us, Princess Star...you have to...save us, Princess…”_

_“Star!”_

_“Mom, no!” She launched herself forward to grab whatever this heirloom was as the flames engulfed the figure of the queen. A long shrill scream tore through her throat as Star felt herself being dragged backwards by a pair of arms forcibly latched around her waist. The entire room faded away in screams, tears, fire and destruction as she was sucked away into blackness…_

 

* * *

 

“No--no no _no!_ ” Star shouted vaguely over and over as Marco dragged her literally kicking and screaming off the railing. It was only after he slid across the deck with her in his arms and ducked back under the stairs to shield them from the rain that he realized she was still asleep. And it was whatever she was dreaming that was causing her to react so hysterically.

“Star--Star, wake up!” Marco dropped to his knees, shaking her as hard as he dared. She continued to scream and grunt, her eyes shut tightly and her fists flying aimlessly. His cheekbone and left eye bore the worst brunt of her strength, and he resisted the urge to smack her face right back just to jar her awake.

Instead he grabbed hold of her swinging fists and trapped them between their chests before grabbing her face with both hands. “Look at me! Star, open your eyes and look at me!”

With a great gasp, her lids shot open, revealing terrified blue eyes pouring tears amidst raindrops. The flame and smoke-engulfed palace was gone, the bodies of the people of Mewni disappeared. But she still panted, her paranoid gaze darting around as Marco held onto her.

“They need me! They were all dying, they needed me to save them! I couldn’t stop it!”

“Wait, who--what are you talking about?!”

“She tried to give it to me and I couldn’t take it!”

“Who’s ‘she’?!” Marco cried out, squinting through his swelling eye. “What’s ‘it’?!”

“I don’t know! I couldn't see anything and it was all happening so fast!” Star broke down, clinging to the front of his damp nightshirt. “So many people died _right there_...everything was burning and bleeding...all those faces…”

“Shh-- _shhhh_ ,” Marco hushed her gently as he pulled her close, feeling her sob weakly into his chest. “It was a nightmare. Just a bad dream. It’s okay, I...I get them too sometimes.”

“Really?” His kindred spirit made her grip him tighter and convulse harder, as if nothing in her mind would be able to touch her the further she buried herself against him.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered with a sweet tenderness she’d never heard from him before, pressing his cheek against the top of her soaking wet head. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you anymore. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

“Sir? Uhh, there’s a very simple all-natural remedy for high blood pressure.” Ludo let out a timid laugh, attempting to add a bit of humor to the situation. He watched warily as a vein pulsed in Toffee’s neck the longer he glared at the reflective surface, his jaw set with pointed teeth bared. “The uh--the rats taught me. Just wormwood and basil with a hint of--”

“Shut up!” He grabbed one of the empty bowls the scuttling vermin had used to feed him and flung it towards Ludo. The birdlike man winced as it just missed him, shattering over his head.

“Or you could throw things, that works too!”

“I put everything I had into that curse,” Toffee fumed, flexing his clawed hands. “I almost had her. She was so close to her death, until…” The image in the all-seeing mirror rippled delicately like the surface of undisturbed water: The princess, awakened from her torment and weeping in the arms of her savior.

This was a new development that hadn’t been in the cards. He had never considered the boy an obstacle. Star Butterfly’s own resourcefulness and endurance, yes of course--for that was the reason he was in this state in the first place. But for the young man to be able to reach into her trance, to pull her out of her darkest thoughts and deepest repressed memories...that took a certain kind of magic that put Toffee at a severe disadvantage.

At least, if he remained here and attacked her from a distance.

“An indirect approach isn’t going to suffice.” He whipped his head around at his chained comrade. “Are you listening, twerp?!”

“Loud and clear!” Ludo snapped back to attention when he found himself staring at the image in the mirror as well. But that boy looked vaguely familiar. He could have sworn he’d seen him somewhere before.

“I’m going to have to kill her myself,” Toffee emphasized, as if speaking to a child. “In person.”

“What?!” Ludo squawked. “You mean _physically?!”_

“Have questions or concerns?” Toffee raised an eyebrow at him.

“Several, in fact,” Ludo continued, leaning forward as far as he could while bound to the stone wall. “You’re half dead! You haven’t left this dungeon in ten years! How exactly do you plan to get to Paris in one piece?”

“I thought I’d take the train,” Toffee remarked. When Ludo stared at him incredulously, his frown deepened. “It was a joke, Ludo.”

“Oh-- _oh_ , ha ha! Very funny, sir!” Ludo chortled loudly, then grunted painfully as Toffee waved his hand and tightened his chains once again.

“Or I could have the rats raid the palace library and find me a book on the magic of transporting across dimensions.” The slithery reptile eyed the group of rodents gathered at his feet, who shivered under his reproachful gaze. He raised his hand and they squeaked in unison, cowering as if he planned to strike them. But he merely snapped his fingers.

“ _Go_. Her Highness awaits our arrival.”

“Ours?” Ludo hardly dared to believe his ears as the rats scurried past him in haste. “You mean I’m coming too?”

“Oh sure, Ludo, it’s the least I can do. It _was_ your idea to lure her directly in the first place.” Toffee swept his hand around his body and his rags fell away, instantly replaced with his old general’s armor and billowing blood red cape. “I’ll let you watch how it’s done. For as things stand now, you couldn’t possibly muck this up more than you already have.”

 


	7. Arrival And Reunion

**_Fifteen years ago_ **

_“You seem tense tonight, Angela. Is something wrong?” The young queen, not even twenty-five years old, turned from her vanity mirror she was seated before to look over her shoulder. Her lady-in-waiting stood behind her absentmindedly running the brush through her long periwinkle hair, staring out the adjacent window with a faraway glazed expression. She snapped back to attention at hearing her name._

_“It’s nothing, Your Majesty.” Setting the brush down, Angie swept over to the wardrobe and retrieved the silk blue robe hanging inside the door. Moon stood to let her drape the garment over her before combing her hair over her shoulder, spilling down her front in a silvery waterfall._

_“I’ve prepared the bed, as well as the bowl of kernels at His Majesty’s nightstand.”_

_“Oh yes, we can’t forget that,” Moon rolled her eyes internally at her husband’s corn addiction. Keeping her gaze fixed suspiciously on Angie, who was giving the room a final once over, the queen began weaving her fingers through her silky locks as she braided the strands together. “Well, I suppose you may go for the night if that’s all taken care of.”_

_“Yes.” Angie gave a slight bow before wandering towards the door. And as Moon expected, she halted, her hand frozen in midair as she reached for the doorknob. She may be an inexperienced monarch, but she was no fool. She knew her most loyal and trusted servant was hiding something, and any moment it was going to burst forth._

_“My Lady, may I speak freely?”_

_“You may, under one condition.” Moon fastened the end of her braid and flipped it around her back. “Turn around and look me in the face.”_

_Angie brought her trembling hand to her stomach, cupping it gently as the weight of her hardest responsibility yet closed in on her. Flicking aside a tear that had escaped down her cheek, she summoned the bravest face she could and whirled from the door. “I’m afraid something has happened. Something that...may impend my future here.”_

_“Are you ill?” Moon asked concernedly, having noticed the rather loose fitting clothes she had been wearing as of late._

_“No, it isn’t that. It’s something of my own doing, and--” Her voice caught in her throat as her emotional heart weakened her resolve. “And I ask only for your forgiveness.” Tears dropped swiftly from her eyes, and Moon strode across the room to her._

_“Angela, what is it?” She pulled her over to the bed and sat her down beside her. “Whatever it is, it will not leave this room.”_

_“That’s impossible, my Queen.” She circled her hand around her belly where a definite bump was taking shape. “I’m pregnant. And soon everyone will know.”_

_“My goodness…” Moon got up to quickly peek out into the hallway, making sure no one was listening in before shutting the door._

_“I’m four months along now,” Angie continued between sniffles. “I knew I couldn’t lie to you about this, but I didn’t know how to tell you the truth either.”_

_“I truly appreciate your honesty,” Moon said quietly, an unreadable businesslike expression on her face. “This could not have been easy for you to share with me.”_

_“It’s a boy. It’s--it’s Rafael Diaz’s.” The servant girl knelt in front of the bed imploringly, keeping her head bowed. “But please don’t punish him. Dismiss me if you feel that’s for the best, but let him stay. He’s worked too hard for--”_

_“Angela, listen to me.” The queen reached down and raised her up from the floor, patting the comforter beside her. Gingerly, Angie sat down once more. “I’m not angry. And I will not be dismissing either of you. My servants are living beings just like myself, and I recognize that they too have desires and passions. However--” She lowered her tone seriously, her eyes flickering towards the door again. “A child born out of wedlock will not look favorable for any of us. I urge you and Rafael to get married as soon as possible, and I will provide any expenses necessary.”_

_“Yes--yes, absolutely,” Angie said dazedly, unable to believe her ears. “I can’t thank you enough.”_

_“I understand, Angela. Believe me…” Moon gave a very slow, significant nod. “I understand.”_

_Angie was puzzled for a moment, then noticed the extra shine in the queen’s sapphire eyes, the radiant glow around the fuchsia diamonds on her cheeks. And it hit her like a ton of bricks. “My Queen!”_

_“Shh!” Moon hushed her quickly, yet couldn’t stop the slight smile from spreading. “We must keep this between us for now--I haven’t even told River yet. There will be a formal announcement soon.”_

_“Your secret is safe with me.” Angie sighed happily, clapping her hands together. “An heir to the throne. Oh, you must be so excited!”_

_“To be quite honest, I’m nervous,” Moon said with a frown. “I’ve been so busy worrying about trying to be the best Queen I can be that I never really thought of myself being a mother before. It’s daunting.”_

_“I never thought of it either,” Angie admitted. “But I suppose our best is all we can do when the time comes.” She rubbed her stomach tenderly. “I love this little one so much already, and I haven’t even met him yet.”_

_“You will be a wonderful mother, Angela. You have a nurturing heart that I lack.”_

_“My Lady, you think so little of yourself,” Angie smiled. “I know you’ll care for your child even more than you care for your kingdom.”_

_“I suppose that is as it should be.” She touched her own middle, as if she could physically feel a change shifting inside her even at this early stage. “If anything, this has reminded me of what is really important. Should we lose this war, if everything else I love crumbles around me…I’ll prevail as long as my husband and child are still with me.”_

 

* * *

 

**_Present, 1926_ **

“Of course I remember!” the blonde-haired, blue-eyed teenage girl crowed with the faux confidence of someone who clearly did not know what they were talking about. The two middle-aged women who sat in armchairs in front of her narrowed their eyes judgmentally, noticing the pink hearts she had drawn on her face were starting to run with sweat. “Grandfather would take us to the fair every summer, and you would tell me stories from your youth at St. Olga’s--”

“Star’s grandfather died before she was even born!” Moon rose from her chair so quickly that it scraped the hardwood floor, and Angie leaned back from her, pressing a hand to her chest. The former queen of Mewni glared daggers at the girl, who cowered at her outburst. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?”

“Alright dear, you have to leave now,” Angie declared in the most courteous voice she could muster, taking the girl by the arm and pulling her to the front door of the manor. “Goodbye!” she called cheerfully as she practically shoved her out onto the porch, slamming the door behind her.

“Should I prepare the tea now?” the maid asked, peeking out from the kitchen doorway once the commotion had settled.

“Yes, I think that would be best,” Angie said wearily, yet her voice did not conceal a tone of simmering anger. These girls coming forward to swindle them for the reward money were getting craftier. She had been at it with that last one for two hours before she finally caught her in a lie. It was exhausting, not to mention how emotionally draining each disappointment became, one right after the other.

“I’m so sorry,” she said when she re-entered the parlor, sliding the door closed. “That one even had _me_ convinced for a while.”

Moon had slumped back in the chair, her hand over her eyes. “I’m going upstairs to take a nap,” she muttered curtly, rising to head for the stairway.

“Don’t worry!” Angie called over to her. “Next time I’ll have some _really_ hard questions prepared.”

“No,” Moon spun around on her heel and looked Angie dead in the eye. “My heart can’t bear all of this false hope anymore.” She took her handbag from around her waist and clicked it open, pulling out a wrinkled photograph. “Angela, do you remember what I told you once? The night I found out I was pregnant with Star?”

“That as long as your family was with you…” Angie trailed off, setting the tea tray she had been brought onto the table forlornly.

“But they’re not. They never will be again. And I cannot keep sitting here praying that she’ll come walking through that door--it’s tearing me apart!” Her voice rose passionately before it broke off, covering her mouth as her tear-filled eyes stared at the image of her four-year-old daughter’s smiling face.

“I will see no more girls claiming to be Star.” She brought the photo to her lips briefly, kissing it as the tears overflowed down her cheeks. “She’s gone.”

 

* * *

 

“Where's the Johansen clan from?” Marco asked his final drilling questions as they strode up the sidewalk to the former queen’s Paris manor in the bright afternoon sunlight. Rafael walked a little ways ahead of them, humming cheerfully as he gathered flowers into a bunch for his wife. Star shuffled her feet beside Marco, chewing the hair on the end of her braid.

“What if Angie doesn't recognize me?” she burst out fretfully.

“She _will_ ,” Marco assured her, pulling the braid out of her mouth and flinging it aside. “You're Star Butterfly.”

“Marco, six weeks ago I didn't have any past at all, and now I’m trying to remember an entire _lifetime_ ,” she exhaled in one breath.

“That's why you’ve got me.” He slid an arm around her waist, and she blushed at his touch. “Sorry!” he exclaimed, jerking back while his own face flamed hot.

“No no, it's okay! I mean, if you wanna…” Star felt her shoulders relax as his arm encircled her again, her heartbeat quickening now for a completely different reason. “Um, sorry about your eye.” She indicated the purplish bruise next to the bridge of his nose, left over from the night he saved her from jumping to her death.

“Eh, I’ll just tell Mom I got in a fight.” He grinned at her good-humoredly. “With a girl. And lost.”

“That _wasn’t_ what happened?” she giggled back, and Marco was glad she seemed more at ease. Then his heart skipped a beat when he examined the blush in her face--a bright pink patch in the center of each cheek. And once again, it was like he was looking at his childhood friend all over again.

_If they were heart-shaped...just like--ugh, stop it Diaz. There is no more Princess Star. She’s just an orphan from Earth. A feisty, stubborn, over-emotional orphan who cleans up nice, with the prettiest smile and hair that--what?! Why are you even thinking about how her hair smells like strawberries?! Why was that so oddly specific?!_

“Marco, you okay?”

“Yeah, uh--so where’s the Johansen clan from again?”

“The northern Bandit Mountains, thirty miles from Pony Head Kingdom.”

 

* * *

 

The butterflies flitted in his stomach just like all those years ago, when he first asked her to be his. Now after being apart for so long, everything seemed so uncertain. Would he and Angie have to start all over again, or could they pick things up right where they left off? These and countless other questions flooded Rafael’s mind as he raised his free hand to knock on the manor door, clutching the bouquet of flowers to his chest. Marco stood with Star a few feet back, knowing there was about to be an explosion of emotions any second now--whether good or bad.

The door swung open and a young maid in a short black and white dress answered the door. Rafael stuttered a bit--things were certainly a bit more risque in Paris than he expected.

“ _Bonjour, Monsieur,_ ” she curtsied.

“Erm, I’m here to see--”

A loud crash was heard in the front hall, not far behind where the maid stood. She whirled aside to reveal Angie, who had dropped the entire tea tray in shock when she saw who was standing at the door.

 _“Rafael!”_ she screamed long and loud, shoving the maid roughly aside as she leapt over her mess. Rafael also flung the bouquet away as his wife flew through the open doorway and into his arms.

 _“Angela,_ _te he echado de todos los días, mi amor!”_ he sang out as he swung her around in the air like a rag doll.

“Where, I--how--what are you doing here?” Angie gasped out between the numerous kisses her long-absent husband planted all over her face and down her neck.

“No questions--we ask questions later,” he replied breathlessly before covering her lips with his, both pairs working passionately as they bunched each other’s hair up in their hands.

“I am so sorry you have to watch this,” Marco muttered out the corner of his mouth to Star, using his hand to block the sight of his parents making out.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Star sighed dreamily, clutching her hands to her chest. “Like something straight out of a romance novel.”

“Angie--oh Angie, _te deseo. Quiero resgar apagado toda su ropa--_ ”

“Oh Rafael!”

“Dad!” Marco hissed in mortification, clamping his hands firmly over Star’s ears as if she were a child.

“What’s he saying?” Star whispered.

“You don’t wanna know.”

Star removed his hands from her ears and gave him a shove forward. “What are you waiting for? You haven’t seen her in forever.”

“I don’t wanna interrupt, she’s kind of busy right now--”

“Marco?” Angie broke away from her husband when she saw the boy standing on the walkway to the porch. “No, it can’t be. It hasn’t been that long, Rafael, has it?”

“That’s him, Angie,” he whispered as her eyes filled with tears. “That’s our boy.”

“Hi, Mom,” Marco croaked out, suddenly finding it very difficult to speak as his mother began to cry in front of him.

“Oh my baby,” she wept, enveloping him in her arms as she rocked him in place. “My sweet, sweet boy...you’re really _here_.”

Marco returned her embrace tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. And suddenly, everything came rushing back: Her singsong voice lulling him to sleep, her gentle kisses on his forehead, her soft _“I love you’s”_ , and the very last moment he saw her--when she disappeared into the panicked crowd the night of the revolt. He thought he’d never see her again. And now she was here, holding him as close as she did back then. He hoped Star wasn’t watching as he muffled his own sniffles into Angie’s maroon hair.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, his voice cracking. “I really, really did.”

“For ten years--those letters just weren’t enough,” Angie nodded, kissing both of his cheeks as she continued stroking his dark brown locks. “And now look at you, all grown up.”

“We’re sorry if we startled you, my angel,” Rafael said sheepishly as she let go of Marco, blotting her tears away.

“Well this is all certainly unexpected,” Angie laughed and hiccuped at the same time, “I’m not even remotely prepared for guests.” She stopped short when she noticed Star over Marco’s shoulder, hanging back a bit from the family reunion. “Oh Marco, and you’ve brought a girl with you!”

“Wha-- _Mom!_ ” Unbelievable. Eight minutes after reuniting with his mother and she was already embarrassing him.

“Oh but Angie, this is no ordinary girl.” Rafael walked over to Star and lifted her hand in his as if preparing to escort her. She got the hint and instantly straightened her shoulders. “May I present Mewni’s long-lost princess, Star Butterfly.”

Angie’s eyes widened in a mixture of awe and dismay as the day’s surprises kept piling up. “Oh my heavens,” she breathed as she swooped down the stone pathway to get a good look at Star, who had lowered herself into a deep curtsy. “Turn for me, dear.” Star obeyed, the skirt of her sundress fanning around her as she spun. Angie, like Marco, was particularly struck by the resemblance in her face--especially now with the anxious pink patches on her cheeks.

“Well?” Rafael asked eagerly.

“She certainly does _look_ like the Princess,” Angie agreed. Then her face fell, “But so did many of the others.” She noticed Star glancing between Rafael and Marco with thinly-veiled panic, and gave her a genuine maternal smile. “Why don’t you come inside--all of you--and I’ll ask you some questions over lunch?”

While his parents whispered to each other as they went through the front door, Marco caught Star staring at him before they followed. “What?” he asked out the corner of his mouth.

“Nothing,” Star said softly. The corners of his eyes were still wet, and she felt a tug at her heart seeing this more vulnerable side of him. _Well, guess we’re even now_ , she realized, remembering the night on the boat. But this compassionate and loving Marco so moved her that for one wild moment, she wanted to lean over and kiss his cheek. But she contented herself with hanging onto his arm for now as they both held their breath, about to take the plunge they had been preparing for all this time.

As Angie led the three of them to the empty parlor, she let out a slight crestfallen sigh. _If only you had brought her to us sooner, Rafael…_

 

* * *

 

“Goodness! You’re the first one to remember Manfred had a Persian cat--and that you accidentally dyed his coat bright pink.” Angie laughed at the memory as the still nervous Star stifled a giggle behind her hand. It hadn’t been a picnic being charged with scrubbing the cat clean at the time, but the whole ordeal was quite hilarious looking back on it.

“But that wasn’t as ridiculous as when I had Henry sleep in my room for a week--”

“--and the King and Queen didn’t even _notice!”_ Angie doubled over as she, Star and Rafael all dissolved into peals of laughter. “How do you not notice a baby unicorn in your own daughter's bedroom?!”

Marco did his best to blend into the background, wandering around by the fireplace while Star was quizzed by his mother. The more particular and obscure the memory, the more Angie dropped her professional demeanor, which seemed to be loosening Star up more and more. He wasn’t fooled though--he recognized this as a diversion tactic to get Star to drop her guard and slip up. And after nearly two hours of interviewing, Marco figured it was about time to get a verdict.

“So, Mom…” he began, loud enough to be heard over their fading hysterics.

“Oh I’m sorry, honey,” Angie panted, wiping her watering eyes as she glanced up at the clock on the mantle. “It doesn’t even feel like we’ve talked that long, you’ve made this quite enjoyable.”

“Thanks, I try,” Star said, maintaining her poise in the chair and courteous smile.

“However, I do have one more question.” Angie’s amused expression melted away as fast as the snow in the countryside Star had traveled through with Rafael and Marco. Everything they taught her had led up to this moment.

“Alright.” She had come this far without a hitch, and there was no backing out now.

“Begging your pardon in advance, but you may find this rather...bold. Intrusive, even,” Angie said seriously. “But indulge me for a minute.” Hopefully now she would be able to tell whether this girl was actually the queen’s missing daughter or just a really cunning actress. She took a deep breath. “On the night of the siege of Butterfly Castle, how did you and your mother escape?”

 _Oh no._ Now it was Rafael’s turn to panic, he and Marco exchanging terrified looks. This was it. End of the line. Two hours of nothing but perfection was about to come crashing down, and Marco could kiss those ten million gold pieces goodbye. Rafael opened his mouth to interrupt his wife, then promptly shut it again when he realized she would suspect them if he did so. Marco knew exactly why his father was so unnerved: Because unlike all of the other questions Star had been asked, not even _he_ knew the answer to this one.

There was only one person in that room who did. And he didn’t dare say a word either. All he could do was watch helplessly as Star wrung her hands tightly in her lap, her brow furrowed. And for the first time, Marco’s heart went out to the victim of one of his schemes as she closed her eyes, trying to dredge up something useful.

_Star...I’m s--_

“I remember...there was a wall that slid open,” Star opened her eyes slowly, leaning forward in her seat. She raised her hands in front of her as if painting the scene out for Angie. “Someone told me I had to get out. I hugged him, and then I was pulled inside...”

She shook her head as if coming to her senses and coughed out a laugh, slapping her hands back down on her knees. “Wow, I’m sorry! I--I dunno where that came from. That must’ve sounded...uh, yeah.” Her eyes darted between Angie and Rafael as her hands began to tremble in her lap.

“Angie,” the older man prodded, “Is she…?”

“Well,” Angie turned to her husband and smiled warmly, “She answered every question.”

Rafael leapt from his seat, grabbing Star’s hands joyfully. “You hear that, child?! You did it!” Angie applauded excitedly as Star flung her arms around Rafael, her heart so full to bursting she could cry. Not one of them noticed Marco, staring at Star like he’d never seen her before as he backed out of the parlor, closing the door silently behind him.

“Congratulations, dear!” Angie cried out, hugging Star tightly as well.

“So, when do we see the Queen?” Rafael asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an overgrown child.

“Oh Rafael,” She turned to him with remorseful eyes. “I’m afraid she won’t allow it.”

“Come again?"

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she truly looked it. “She told me this morning that she refuses to see anymore girls.”

“Angie, my sweet,” Rafael said in a low firm tone, pulling the tea tray out of her hands as she made to leave the room with it. “We came all the way from Mewni, through snow and stormy sea, to bring this poor girl back to her mother.”

“I would if I c-- _oh!”_ Angie squealed as Rafael grabbed her playfully around the waist, lifting her away from the door.

“Surely you can arrange a brief meeting,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

“That is not fair, Raf--!”

“I refuse to budge until you think of something!” Rafael announced to anyone who would listen, then buried his nose in Angie’s neck, running his lips up and down her collarbone.

“Alright _alright_ , put me down!” Angie giggled like a flirty schoolgirl as he nibbled on her earlobe. Star looked back at the fireplace amusedly to see just how reddened Marco’s face was at this display--only to find he wasn’t there.

“Marco?” she called, scanning the room for him and coming up empty. _Where’d he sneak away to?_ She didn’t even get a chance to thank him yet.

“Star?” Angie asked, prying Rafael’s hands off her waist as she came up to her. “Do you enjoy the ballet?”

“Ohh, I do!” Star’s eyes regained their sparkle once more. “I mean I’ve never seen one, but I know I’d love it.” Mina used to tell her about the beautiful dancers on pointed toes back at the orphanage, for her late mother had been a famous ballerina.

“What a coincidence! The Queen and I _also_ love the ballet!” Angie sang out, overemphasizing the phrase as she winked at Rafael beside her. “We never miss a performance. And there just so _happens_ to be one tonight.”

“Oh, well then we must go while we’re in town, shouldn’t we Star?!” Rafael exclaimed once he caught on, before mouthing a quick  _“Thank you”_ to his wife.

“Hmm, and you’ll need something a little more elegant for a night at the theater,” Angie added. “Luckily for you, I know where all the best boutiques in Paris are.”

Passing the interrogation, shopping in Paris _and_ she was finally going to meet the queen? Star didn’t think this day could get any better.

 

* * *

 

“There you are-- _we did it!_ ” Marco barely had time to turn around from the porch railing when his father grabbed him in his arms, lifting him up from the ground. “We’re meeting with Her Majesty tonight at the ballet!”

“That’s great Dad, listen--”

“We’ll get the ten million gold pieces!” Rafael set him back down, holding him affectionately by the shoulders. “And then, the Diaz family will be under one roof again. Just like we always wanted.”

“Dad, it’s about Star--”

“Wasn’t she spectacular?” Rafael gushed of their young protege. “I thought your mother had us cornered, but Star rose to the top so beautifully. That story about sneaking away in the wall? Genius!”

“That’s just it, it wasn’t--!”

“Rafael!” Angie’s voice rang out from inside the manor. “You and Marco better hurry, the car will be ready in five minutes!”

“Coming! Oh, I missed her voice so much,” the older man sighed, clapping Marco’s back before rushing back into the front hall.

“But Dad…” Marco trailed off morosely. He was still so shell-shocked that he didn’t even have the energy to chase after him. The utterly impossible odds stacking in their favor winded him so badly that he was sure he’d fall over if he didn’t grip the rail.

He shut his eyes, and it played out before him in a haze: Running desperately up the pitch black passageway, pushing his way into the light once he came out on the other side. The queen’s suite. Only two people were in the room, their terrified faces relieved when they saw him: Queen Moon and Princess Star. No one else.

Marco had never mentioned it aloud to anyone. He had been too young to understand the significance of what he’d done for the royal family. The little boy of the head cook and queen’s handmaiden had just wanted to help his best friend, royalty or not. And as the months passed, and Star was all but declared dead, he repressed everything that reminded him that he had failed.

Until today. That one astonishing moment this afternoon, when the skinny dirty little orphan they found in the old palace proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that his act of bravery had not been in vain.

“She _is_ the Princess.” He voiced it aloud, even though his father had left moments ago. And suddenly the familiarity of her eyes, her laugh, her wrinkled nose, her annoying chewing habit, _all_ of it made perfect sense.

Star Butterfly, his beloved childhood companion, had been with him this whole time.

“Marco!” A hand grabbed his arm and spun him around. There she was, beaming like she was on top of the world, as she rightfully should. “C’mon, we’re going shopping for the ballet and your mom says you can’t wear that.” She indicated his faded dress pants and dark red sweater vest.

“Okay great,” he muttered dazedly, barely comprehending what she’d said. All he could think about was grabbing her and holding her to him, the two of them together again after all these years.

“Marco, seriously, what’s the matter?” she asked, her excitement deflating at the solemnity in his chocolate brown eyes.

“Nothing’s the matter,” Marco shook his head quickly. “ _Seriously_. Things...couldn’t be better.” He squeezed her hand tightly just as a car horn honked from the back of the driveway.

“That’s our ride!” Star trilled. And still hanging onto his hand, she pulled him back through the house to the rear patio as he ran to keep up. It may as well have been ten years ago when the princess would pull him outside to the courtyard, or sneak around the guards to get to the rooms they weren’t allowed in--taking him on a new adventure every day.

It really was her.

_I found you. I can’t believe I actually found you._

 


	8. Yes Princess, I've Found You At Last

The sights and sounds of Paris were unlike anything the trio had ever seen, especially for the long isolated and neglected Star. A city clearly ahead of its time, skyscrapers seemed to pierce through the stars themselves, the sidewalks constantly bustled with men in fancy suits and women dolled up to the nines in fringed dresses with glittering cloche hats atop short bobbed curls. Everyone appeared ready for a night on the town, and every night seemed like a party.

For someone who claimed she was “getting too old” for this sort of nighttime revelry, Angie certainly knew her way around the overwhelming city. She must have taken them to at least ten different boutiques for formalwear, and even though Rafael and Marco had picked out their tuxedos at store number two, Angie was insistent that Star go to each and every one of them before she made a decision. As a result, the girl wound up buying five dresses, despite only needing one for this evening’s ballet--and more importantly, her meeting with the queen.

As a precursor to the main event of the night, the four of them went out to a vaudeville bar, where Marco was determined to stay far away from his parents, who could not keep their hands off of each other. He only perked up when Angie sweet-talked the bartender into getting herself and his father drinks from “the cellar”, then deflated again when she gave him a flat-out _“No”_ to his request to partake in their less-than-legal consumption. To make matters worse, while he and Star mingled among the crowd cheering on the can-can dancers, it was assumed by many that the two of them were a couple. And if he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn Star looked a little disappointed when he insisted that they weren’t.

But he did know better. As he watched young men trip over each other asking her to dance, Star being a natural conversationalist leading them to mistake it as flirting, not to mention how pretty she looked with her hair piled behind her head and twirling in a lavender slip dress, Marco simply swallowed down his jealousy with another sparkling lemonade.

How could he justify getting angry? This was her life now. She was more than just a lovely girl, she was _royalty_. And once Queen Moon was convinced her daughter had returned, Star would receive all of the extravagances that came with it. Wealth, gowns, pearls, monthly balls and men throwing themselves at her feet. Rich men, powerful men, heirs who were worthy to stand beside a princess. It didn’t matter that the kingdom of Mewni was a thing of the past, she still had royal blood running through her veins.

That had always been the one thing that separated Marco from Star. When they were children and the princess was whisked away from their play dates to be gussied up for a party or royal appearance. Or when she and her parents would take trips to the outer realms of Mewni, leaving Marco behind in the palace with the other servants’ children who didn’t really get on well with him. It hurt and was lonesome for him. But he understood why it happened. Star Butterfly was the crowned princess, and she would always be destined for greater things--and people--than him.

A couple hours later, Rafael was pacing the sidewalk in front of the ballet theater, twirling the brim of his top hat anxiously in his hands while muttering in Spanish under his breath. Any minute now, Angie was going to show up with Star and they would go inside where the queen was waiting for them. The moment of truth was upon them all.

“We don’t have anything to worry about,” Marco said as his father brushed by him again, standing up from his seat on the stone steps. “She’s the Princess.”

“I know, I _know_. But--”

“No--actually, you don’t know.” He jumped over the bottom two steps onto the pavement, grasping Rafael by the shoulders. “Do you remember where I was the night of the siege?”

Rafael blinked in confusion. “What does that have to--?”

“Answer the question.”

He shook his head, “You had fallen and hit your head...you were lying unconscious in Queen Moon’s suite.” Rafael held him gently by the arms as the terrifying memory came back to him. “I found you and carried you out of there just before the room caught fire.”

“I didn’t hit my head,” Marco whispered. “The lieutenant struck me when I wouldn’t tell him what I knew. You found me in front of a wall panel that slid open, leading to a secret tunnel ending outside the castle.”

The older man’s eyes grew wide in realization. “Star...she said she escaped through a panel in a wall. I thought she was making it up.”

“No.” Marco’s voice shook, “It was me. I opened the wall. I was the one who helped her and her mother escape.”

“ _Mijo_.” Rafael’s eyes grew moist as he ran a hand through Marco’s hair.

“It’s really her, Dad. Star _is_ Princess Star Butterfly.”

“And that means our little orphan has found her family.” He pulled his son in for a tight hug. “We have found Mewni’s one and only heir. And--and you--”

“Will walk out of her life,” Marco finished for him, pushing himself away. “Forever.”

Rafael’s gaze morphed between bewilderment and sadness. “But wh--?”

“We’re almost there.” The boy tried desperately to keep everything that was still in his control in line, despite the significant look in his father’s eyes. “We’re going to go through with this as if nothing has changed.”

“No.” Rafael grabbed his arm, not roughly but firm enough to hold him in place. “This time I am putting my foot down, Marco.”

Marco’s brown eyes flashed with a sudden streak of rage. “Don’t...don’t you _dare_ , Dad. I swear if you tell her, I’ll run away and never speak to you again.”

“I am not telling her a thing. _You_ are. About the plan, about who she really is, and about you. How much you meant to her all those years ago.”

“I didn’t mean anything to her,” Marco insisted, his voice becoming thicker. “We were just a couple of little kids playing around the palace causing trouble, that’s all.”

“She loved you,” Rafael stated earnestly. “You may have been young, but the two of you had something very special. You told each other everything, babbling endlessly about something or other. She always ran to you whenever she was angry or crying from being scolded by her mother--”

“Star doesn’t remember any of that. And it’s gonna stay that way.”

“And you loved her, too.” He let go of Marco, watching him turn away, folding his arms stubbornly over his chest. “You still do. Perhaps now even more than you did.”

“No.” It was more to himself than to Rafael.

“Marco, I’ve seen the way you look at her. When you danced on the boat--”

“That was _nothing_. She’s not gonna dance at a real ball with some kid who used to hang around the kitchens, or help his mom straighten out the Queen’s wardrobe. Let alone marry him.” He chomped his front teeth down on his lower lip, blinking away the damp fog from his eyes. It had been years since he cried-- _really_ cried--and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Marco.” He repeated his son’s name softer that time. Rafael had been patient with him for the better part of ten years, but this matter was different. He was hurting himself, and ultimately hurting Star as well, by withholding what was truly in his heart.

“There’s no place for me in her life anymore.”

Rafael’s frown deepened. “That's not true. You’ve got to _tell_ her.”

“Tell me what?”

The men spun around in shock, seeing Star step out of their streetcar with Angie right behind her. Dressed from chest to knees in a teal fur coat, she clutched a handbag in one hand and held her coat closed against the evening chill with the other. A pale pink skirt that reached the ground shimmered around her legs. Her blonde hair was done up with wisps of ringlets framing her face, still sporting bright red splotches amidst her powdered cheeks and cherry lips. The glittering silver choker and heart-shaped earrings brought out the natural brilliance of her baby blue eyes. More than a princess, in that moment she shone like a goddess.

“How--how _amazing_ you look,” Marco managed to say through his bone dry mouth, and Rafael reached over to clamp his hanging jaw shut.

Star gave him her sweet childlike smile, “Thanks Marco!” Rafael nudged him and Marco nearly tripped forward, offering his arm to their royal companion. “You’re too kind.”

“My pleasure, Your Highness,” Marco said, for the first time without a hint of irony or sarcasm.

As they walked up the steps to the theater entrance together, Angie sneaked up beside her husband in her own flowing red and gold ensemble, sliding her arms around his waist.

“Well Rafael, what do we have here?” she asked slyly, nodding forward where their son and the princess were engaged in rather close proximity with each other.

“Exactly what you think it is, _Querida_ ,” he chuckled back at her, clutching her own arm as they followed a few steps behind them. He only hoped Marco would not ruin this before it even began by continuing to keep his secrets close to his chest.

 

* * *

 

Star couldn’t believe this: Her first time ever at the ballet and she spent the entirety of the first act scared out of her mind. Her heart pounded in her ears and her stomach did so many backflips that she was sure she was going to vomit over the side of the balcony. For in a box on the other side of the auditorium, directly parallel to their seats, was Queen Moon’s private view of the stage.

She was so elegant, even from a distance, in her midnight blue gown with her periwinkle hair tied up in a bun adorned with a tiara. And while her face appeared stern and regal, her eyes bore weariness and deep pain. She was a woman who had been hurting for a long time, and Star was terrified that her vague fuzzy memories of her past were only going to make things worse when they finally spoke. She hadn’t even realized that she had torn her program into tiny pieces in her lap until a soft tan hand laid itself atop her gloved one.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Marco whispered in her ear, his breath like a warm comforting breeze in the darkened theater before the lights came up for intermission. “C’mon, it’s time.” Star hastily fished the pieces of paper she’d been chewing on out of her mouth as she got up to follow Marco into the mezzanine lobby.

“I can’t do this.” She clutched her stomach, her own breathing coming out in short gasps.

Marco looped his arm around hers, grasping her hand tightly. “You said the same thing on our way to the boat, and you learned all those names and facts. You said that before your interview earlier today, and you convinced my mother--the Queen’s closest handmaiden. Starting to see a pattern here?”

“Marco,” Star shook her head, swallowing the bile as she struggled to keep up with his brisk pace towards the queen’s box. “I...I really want this. No, I _need_ this to work out.”

He stopped in the middle of the aisle, causing several wealthy patrons to collide with them on their way to the bar or restrooms, and he pulled her over to the side. “Of course you do, Star.”

She lowered her eyes, her chin quivering slightly. “Earlier today, when I saw your dad kissing your mom after not seeing her for so long...and when you and your mom hugged each other, there...there was so much _love_ there.” She squeezed his hand. “I was jealous. I was so jealous watching the three of you, acting like you’d never even been apart. That’s a real family. That’s what I must’ve had when I was small.” She stepped closer to him as the corridor became more crowded, her gaze inches from his. “I want that, Marco. I want what you have. I didn’t realize how much until today, and--and it hurts to think that--I mean, what if she doesn’t--?”

“You’re gonna get it,” Marco promised, swearing on everything inside of him when he heard her passionate wish. “You’ll have everything you ever wanted and more, Star. We just need to take this last step together.”

She managed a tight smile and a sniffle. “Okay...lead the way.” He pulled her around a corner that led to a small staircase, where the curtain to Moon’s box loomed at the top.

“You wait here, I’ll go in and announce you properly.”

“Marco, wait.” Star didn’t let go of his arm as he made to break away from her. “We--we’ve been through alot together. And whatever happens in the next few minutes, I want you to know that…”

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows expectantly at her, and her jaw hung open stupidly. Suddenly the bubbly, chattering Star had no idea how to articulate the thoughts in her head, especially with those deep brown eyes captivating her.

“Thank you, I guess…” She cleared her throat loudly, “Thank you for everything. I really couldn’t have done this without you.”

They held each other’s gazes for just a few moments, and Marco saw it. The eyes of the tiny princess with pink shapes on her cheeks hanging on his every word. That identical face he had previously dismissed as mere coincidence. How could he have ever doubted that it was her?

“Star…” he breathed out before he could stop himself.

“Yeah?”

He balked, just as everything he wanted to confess landed on the tip of his tongue. This wasn’t fair. He couldn’t do this to her after she had just spilled her guts to him--it would crush her lifelong dream and interfere with her future as princess. This wasn’t about him anymore. “I--g-good luck, I guess.”

She smiled toothily and gave him a thumbs up, and Marco turned from her to march up the steps, straightening his tux to make himself look as stately and professional as possible. Pushing the curtain aside, he found his mother standing there just as planned. And behind her, Queen Moon sat in a velvet-backed chair facing the stage.

Unbeknownst to him, Star had scurried up the steps and put her ear close to the curtain, her anxiety and curiosity all but killing her.

“Please inform Her Majesty, Queen Butterfly of Mewni, that I have found her daughter!” Marco announced loudly so Moon could hear from several feet away, Angie hiding a smile behind her hand. “Princess Star Butterfly is waiting to see her just outside.”

“I’m very sorry, young man!” Angie crowed in equal volume, albeit less convincingly than the boy who had lied and conned his way through life for years. “But Her Majesty will not see anyone regarding--!”

“Tell him that I’ve seen enough Princess Star Butterflys to last me a lifetime,” came the low steely reply of the queen, turning her head partway towards them. Marco caught a glimpse of her profile, and his insides tightened just as they used to back then. There had always been an intimidating air about her that left him tongue-tied and quaking in the knees, and nothing seemed to have changed about that in ten years. In fact, her stern nature coupled with the sadness in her eyes made it even harder.

“But--”

“Leave me in peace,” she declared in finality, facing away from them once more.

“You’d better go,” Angie whispered, pushing him back towards the curtain. “Take Star back to your seats, I’ll figure something out.”

“No, you’ve done enough. I’ll handle this.”

“Marco, _no_.” She restrained him by the arm as he maneuvered around her to get to where Moon sat. “Do _not_ push her. You have no idea what she’s been through.”

“Separated from her only child for ten years?” Marco guessed with a shrug. “Waiting, worrying, wondering what kind of person she turned out to be? Wishing more than anything they’d never been separated in the first place?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Wonder who _that_ sounds like?”

Angie’s grip on him slackened at that, tears forming in her mascara-laced eyes. “I tried to find you and your father again that night, I really did. I realized I had made a mistake leaving you behind. And had I the means to get back to you both, I would have. But at the time, it was safer for us to stay apart. To destroy any means of bridging our two dimensions for _all_ of our sakes. Even little Star’s, no matter what her fate was.”

Marco pulled his arm away from her. “She’s here. She’s standing right outside that curtain, Mom, whether you believe it or not. And she needs her family just as badly as I needed mine.”

“No--sweetheart, _please_ just go.” She gestured helplessly to the exit, but Marco went the opposite direction.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he assured her, “I promise.” He turned and headed straight for the queen’s seat as Angie let out a little moan, covering her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to watch. Slowing his pace, he stopped just beside her chair and swept into a bow.

“Your Majesty, you probably don’t remember me--”

“Marco Diaz.” His torso snapped up in shock, his widened eyes meeting Moon’s cold blue ones. “My, how you’ve changed.” It was not stated kindly.

“Well I…” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I have gotten taller, and my voice is deeper and I have stubble now.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She stood at last, towering over him in her shimmering evening gown and equally brilliant diadem. “Your reputation precedes you, boy. Just because I have been here on Earth does not mean I haven’t been privy to the goings on in my former kingdom. Some of which heavily involve _you_.”

Marco’s face went ashen. “You--you have?”

“A few of my old servants have kept me up to date. Barty, who was our head pastry chef, is among them. I believe he runs the pawn shop now.”

 _That two-timing son of a--!_ No wonder he kept upping the price on those dimensional scissors: He was using them to communicate with the queen.

“Ah, so it is true.” Moon’s tone lingered somewhere between satisfaction and despondency when she saw Marco’s giveaway expression. “You _have_ been looting from the palace.”

He hastily lowered himself to one knee, keeping his head bowed. Even though she was technically no longer a ruling monarch, it felt like the right thing to do given the situation. “I won’t deny it, Ma’am.”

“Despicable,” Moon spat, gripping the back of the seat with her fingerless-gloved hand until her knuckles were white. “You were born under that palace roof. I graciously allowed your parents to raise you alongside my daughter--I agreed to fully provide for you during your childhood. And _this_ is the thanks you give me? I should have you arrested right here and now.”

“Wait!” Marco cried out, jumping up as she headed towards the curtain. He threw himself in front of it, blocking it with his arms as Angie glanced between them. “Just hear me out!”

“And now you bring me yet another imposter,” the queen went on, folding her arms in front of her chest as she held her chin high.

“I’ll make up for your grievances tenfold!” Marco held up his hands in surrender. “Your daughter is outside in the lobby waiting for you. She’s _been_ waiting for you for--”

“Haven’t you been listening? I’ve had _enough!”_ Moon shouted angrily, loud enough for anyone outside to hear. “I don’t care how much you have fashioned this girl to look like her, sound like her or act like her. In the end, it _never_ is her.”

“This time it _is_ her!” Marco raised his voice before sharply bringing it back down mid-sentence at his mother’s cautionary look.

“Don’t think I don’t know what else you were doing,” Moon hissed, pointing her finger directly into his face. “Holding _auditions_ on Mewni to find a Star Butterfly lookalike?”

“Marco!” Angie exclaimed tragically.

“I’m sorry,” Moon apologized to her softly. “I didn’t want you to know about all of this--especially not in this way.”

“It’s not what you think it is,” Marco pleaded, looking directly at Moon despite his mother’s shattered expression in his peripheral vision. “Please just talk to her--”

“How much pain will you inflict on a woman for money?!”

“Madam, is there a problem?” An usher had poked his head through the curtain, followed by another, looking very cross.

“At last,” Moon said in relief, waving her hand in front of her. “Remove him at once!” Angie flattened herself against the wall, watching in horror and disbelief as Marco was hauled out of the box by the two men.

“She _is_ Star!” he yelled out desperately as he was dragged away from her. “She’s the Princess! If you’d only speak to her, you’ll see for yourself!”

His yelling was cut short as he was flung unceremoniously through the drapes, landing at the bottom of the steps on the side of his head. Once the spots and stars had cleared from his vision, he saw silver shoes beneath the pink shimmering hem of a familiar dress.

“I’m sorry,” he moaned, rising slowly from the floor. “She still won’t talk to y--”

He was greeted by a pair of wide blazing blue eyes when he stood up, lips curled, hands balled into fists at her sides. Every inch of her shook with so much fury that Marco was sure she would start spitting sparks in his face the moment she opened her mouth.

“You...you _used_ me?” Star shook her head as if not daring to believe it, even though she heard all the proof she needed for herself. “I was just a part of your big con to get her money?”

Her voice trembled as tears beaded in her eyes, and Marco wanted nothing more than to lie to her at that moment. But lying was what was making her look at him in this way in the first place. And as much as it pained him, it just wasn’t an option this time.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes I did.” For one horrifying moment, Marco thought she was going to start crying. But instantly, her face twisted into rage. Without a word, she spun away from him and stormed down the carpeted aisle, trying to make the distance between them as great as possible. “Star, wait--!”

“Get away from me!” she growled, practically hissing like a cat at him when he caught up, cornering her against the wall.

“It started out as a scheme, I admit it,” Marco said, holding her by the upper arms as she struggled to get out of his grip. “But everything’s different now, because you really are Star Butterfly.”

“Stop it!” Star shrieked, making several heads turn in their direction. “You lied to me! From the very beginning, _you lied!”_ She accentuated each word with a hard punch to his chest and ribcage. “And not only did I believe you, I--I actually almost--I would’ve--!” She trailed off into a roar that sounded more animal than human, her handbag smacking him as she ducked under his arm to get away from him.

“Listen to me-- _listen!”_ Marco leapt back in front of her, blocking her exit every time she tried to push past. “Your memory, the one where you escaped the castle through the wall panel? That’s the proof. That’s how I know you’re her.”

“We’re done, Marco,” she bit out through her teeth, her cheek patches rosier than ever. “I’m not letting you use me like a blank slate to play your pretend princess game anymore.”

“It’s not pretend--it’s _real_ , all of it!” Marco shouted at full voice. “The boy who helped you get out that night, that was--!”

“ _Shut up!_ I don’t wanna hear about anything I said or remembered, you just leave me alone!”

“Star, _please!”_ But as he made to grab her once more, his head and neck were immediately thrown into whiplash. Her gloved hand and bag attached to her wrist both slapped him hard across the face, and he stumbled in place. Reeling from the impact, he saw Star bolting for the theater exit in a towering rage by the time he got his bearings.

He slid onto his knees in the middle of the floor, burying his face in his hands as the lobby began to empty out for the ballet’s second act. His father was right. He should’ve come clean long before she overheard his conversation with the queen. Had she not found out this way, her reaction might have been different. Or maybe not. He really didn’t know anymore. All he knew was that he had very _very_ limited time to fix this before Star left the country and the queen probably shamed his entire family.

Sliding his hands down his face, a faint glimmer on the carpet appeared in the corner of his eye. He crawled over to it and snatched it up, relief washing over him in the warmest of waves. The broken star fragment Star constantly carried around with her--it must have fallen out of her bag when she hit him. The only link she had ever had to her mysterious past life.

And now it was Marco’s only saving grace to set everything right again.

 

* * *

 

Having had the second half of the ballet tarnished for her by the boy’s audacity, Moon was grateful to be heading back to the villa to rest. She had to admit that it was hard seeing the child who had once saved her very life reduced to a thieving con artist. But the fall of Mewni had changed many people, including herself. She could hardly say these revelations surprised her anymore.

The valet opened the car door for her as she swept onto the sidewalk, pulling her light blue stole tighter around her shoulders against the chill. As she settled into the backseat, the driver threw himself into the car with unnecessary haste, starting the motor up and slamming on the gas pedal. The queen hung onto whatever she could grab to keep herself in place as they rocketed down the road.

“Slow down!” Moon yelled irritably as she was tossed about. Then she gasped when her driver turned his head, realizing it was in fact not him at all.

“I won’t slow down,” Marco protested. “Not until you listen.”

“How dare you! Stop this car immediately!”

Swiveling around the corner with all the lacking expertise one would expect a young teenager to have behind the wheel, Marco slammed on the brakes only when they had reached the front of the manor. Shutting off the engine, he flung himself out of the car before Moon could get away.

“You have to talk to her.” His words halted her in her tracks, and she whirled to face him angrily.

“I refuse.”

“Just _look_ at her! Please!”

“I won’t be badgered by you a moment longer!” she declared. “And I _will_ be ringing the police for your removal from the property.”

“Do you recognize this?” He yanked the golden shard out of his pocket and held it up for her to see. It glittered in the light from the streetlamp, and its sudden appearance was the very first thing to break through the icy demeanor of the dethroned monarch. She hastened towards him, her heels clattering on the sidewalk as she held out her hand, and he dropped it into her palm.

“Where did you get this?” Moon asked hushedly, looking as dumbstruck as Marco had felt that day when Star revealed who she really was.

“What is it?” he replied with another question, watching her gradually melt.

“It...it’s a piece of the Royal Wand.” She held it closer to her face with both hands, delicately avoiding the jagged edges. “The form it took when Star held it. It was only for an instant...but the power within her was so strong, and so wild and unfocused that the crystal cleaved apart.” She shook her head slowly, “But how do you have this? Star and I were the only witnesses. She...my Star...she’s the only one who could have had it…”

The satisfaction of the final puzzle piece falling into place welled so strongly inside of him that Marco couldn’t help the corners of his mouth turning upwards. “She _has_ had it. All this time.” Moon closed her fingers around the piece, pressing her lips into a thin line pensively. Marco took a chance and stepped nearer. “I know you’ve been hurt. But for the past ten years, this girl’s been just as lost and alone as you. Don’t you think she deserves a chance to be heard out?”

She took a deep breath and let it out, holding the fist with the shard in it to her chest. “You always did look out for her. Stand up for her. Even when I wouldn’t listen.” And at last, she gave him the slightest hint of a smile.

“Which makes me just as stubborn as you are,” Marco nodded with a half-smile back at her.

 

* * *

 

In a blind fury, Star tore around her room at the manor stuffing dresses into her carpet bag. The dream come true it had felt like when she passed Angie’s interview that day had spiraled into a confusing gut-punching nightmare. No, it had always been a nightmare, she just hadn’t realized it. Stupid naive little orphan girl who put her faith in a boy she thought had her best interests at heart. Who she grew to like. Who she could have even…well, that was never going to happen again.

If she hurried, she might be able to make the last train out of Paris. She had no idea where she was going, but anywhere to isolate herself from being lied to and tricked due to her idealistic nature was fine by her. Each belonging she threw into the bag was punctuated with a grunt or whimper as she ping-ponged between fuming and crying. Bringing her bag over to the vanity, she swept the contents on the table into it before catching her reflection in the mirror.

She didn’t look or feel anywhere near as beautiful as she had before the ballet, with her face in a permanent scowl and her inflamed cheeks marred with fat tear tracks smearing her makeup. Even her hair had given up, gold strands falling out of its perfect updo, and she roughly pulled out the rest of the pins to let it all tumble down to her lower back. Pulling a handkerchief from her little handbag, she wiped off the remains of powder and lipstick. Now she just looked like Star the orphan in a pretty dress. Which was really all she was in the end. Everything else was just a cruel joke.

Blowing her nose noisily, she bunched up the handkerchief to put away--and realized the handbag was empty. Her eyebrows shooting up in alarm, she frantically scanned the floor for the crystal shard and came up empty. “Oh no,” she muttered, “No, not _now!”_

There was a knock at the door, and Star was so emotionally wracked that she reacted instinctively. “Go away, Marco!” she screamed as loudly and nastily as she could.

When the door opened behind her, she was on her knees still in her pink evening gown, skimming over the carpet with her hands. It was quite the sight for Moon Butterfly to see. She cleared her throat lightly, and Star gasped.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry,” she said, her voice suddenly lowering as she scrambled to her feet, smoothing down her dress. “I thought you were--”

“I know who you thought I was,” Moon interjected stiffly, stepping further into the room and letting the door shut with a snap. “He gave me this, saying it belonged to you.” She held out her hand and unfurled her fingers, revealing the broken star.

Star inhaled sharply again, taking it from her. “There it is! I must’ve dropped it back at the theater! Whew, I thought it was gone forever.”

“Would you mind telling me how you came about that piece of crystal?”

Having been enraged as a ten-foot giant moments before, ready to crush anyone who looked at her funny, the girl suddenly felt very small in Moon’s undaunted presence. Since she showed up at her door out of the blue, Star had no warning to mentally prepare herself for her arrival. But here they were, even though Star was almost ready to admit defeat.

And yet still, some tiny voice in the back of her mind told her to stay. To put aside the etiquette and family trees and let her heart do the talking. After all, what more did she have to lose?

“I...I don’t know, actually,” Star responded, stifling a shrug to keep up a poised appearance before royalty. “I was hoping you could tell me. About this.” She fingered the shard nervously. “About...who I am.”

“And I suppose the money doesn’t interest you either,” the older woman smirked dispassionately, and Star shuffled her feet.

“No, I--this thing, I--I’ve had it since I was really young. Before I can even remember, but--” She was losing ground fast, and the queen did not look moved. She clutched the shard in her hand, her heart about to hammer right through her chest. “I’m sorry, I--I don’t know where it came from.”

Moon lowered her chin slowly. “I see.” Without a word, and with a single glance of contempt, she turned to head back to the door.

 _No...no, I blew it...she’s leaving! Star, do something! Think of something--anything!_ _There’s gotta be something!_ She gripped the crystal tighter still, not noticing until the jagged edges pierced the skin in her palm. With a soft hiss of pain, she opened her hand to see she had indeed drawn blood in three places. Cuts from glass were never a good thing. Just like the time when she--

 _Wait..._ An image, a swirling previously unrecalled memory swam faintly to the front of her mind.

“Solaria’s statue…”

Moon’s hand froze in midair before the doorknob. “Excuse me?”

“I...I was playing too roughly in that room. The really sacred one.” Star pressed her uninjured hand to her temple, rubbing it. “I ran right into Queen Solaria’s crystal statue, knocked it over and it shattered _everywhere_.” She could practically feel just how badly she had jumped at the pealing crash. How her stomach dropped when the queen had rushed into the room at the noise…

_“I’m sorry, Mommy!” The tiny girl cowered on the floor, shaking like a leaf and surrounded by dangerously sharp broken glass. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry! Don’t be mad, Mommy!”_

“...But you _were_ mad,” Star continued almost dreamily. “Really mad. You didn’t yell or strike me, but you had that look. The one that always made me shape up.” She tenderly removed the shard from her hand and began to blot away the drops of blood. “You still took care of me, picked the glass out of my cuts. Kissed my tears away ‘cause I couldn’t stop crying. And _then_ you punished me--no dessert for two weeks.”

The queen lowered herself into the loveseat by the door, as if weakened in the knees. It was an oddly obscure anecdote to recall, that was for sure, and she was the first girl to bring it up. But it was also completely _true_. And that was what stunned her into staying.

“You loved me...so much.” Star’s voice wavered a bit, looking back around at her. “You were stern, you never laughed, you rarely smiled--but you always had a smile just for me. I made you happy when a lot of things didn’t.” She walked closer to where she sat. “You could be so cold. And I still knew you loved me more than _anything_. I just...knew it.”

Moon patted the seat beside her, and Star sat down. She was spellbound now at seeing the girl up close. It was as if she were looking in the mirror at her own adolescent self. And while that stirring of hope terrified her, there was something about this child that none of the others had. She could start to feel her shriveled long-buried heart opening up once more. And before she knew it, she had covered Star’s hand with her own.

Several things happened at once, so suddenly that Star nearly passed out: A warmth emitted from Moon’s hand, passing to her own as if connected by an invisible force running through both of them. The heat shot up her arm, spreading to every end of her body and flooding her brain. Like a fog dissipating--a decade-long fog--images, memories and people formed clearly in her mind’s eye.

“I remember.” Star swayed in her seat and hung onto the arm to steady herself. “I _remember._ ”

“Remember what?” Now Moon’s voice quivered as she sat looking into her eyes--not steely blue-grey like hers, but the sweet baby blue ones she had inherited from her father.

“I wanted to be just like you--I couldn’t wait to be queen. Angie made me a fake crown so I could pretend I was queen along with you.” She curled her fingers around Moon’s, the images flashing by quicker like a malfunctioning movie reel. “Daddy would take me on picnics, and put me on his shoulders to watch the jousting matches. Angie--your handmaiden--she always watched over me when you were busy or had to leave. Like another mother. And I would play…”

The warmth inside her grew hotter, flushing into her face like a fever. It was enough to make her sweat, yet she didn’t. “I played in the secret rooms and passageways, even though I knew I wasn’t supposed to. I used to drag someone along with me...a boy…” She gasped. His face appeared: Round and cherubic, tan and smiling with thick brown hair and--

“A mole...on his right _cheek!”_ She clutched at her head, feeling faint. She closed her eyes, scouring through new crystal clear thoughts. “Angie Diaz... _Diaz_. _Marco Diaz._ ” A little boy--no, a boy her age. The very same one she slapped over an hour ago. “He was there! He was my best friend! We got in so much trouble together!”

She laughed out loud despite the tears in her eyes. Tears of pure rapture. She was remembering--she was remembering nearly everything the longer she held the queen’s hand. Moon hung onto her hand with both of hers as she watched her epiphany, her own tears streaming down her cheeks.

“And there was the war...Mewmans versus monsters. You and Dad fought in it. You were so strong and _powerful_ when you had--” It burst through her mind fog like the clearing in a forest: Its long glinting golden handle, the heart-shaped sapphire-- “The Royal Wand.”

“Your birthright,” Moon breathed, sliding closer to her. “Someday it would be yours to wield.”

“But I held it once--just one time, in my hand. It changed shape. It had a star-- _wait!”_ She held up the shard, her eyes wide in realization. “ _This_ star! This is a piece of the Wand!”

Moon let out a cry just as Star’s cheeks flamed red hot, and in the blink of an eye they cooled before she could react. “It can’t be…”

“What?” Star pressed her hands to her face in a panic. “What is it?!”

“Your magic...your inherent magic within,” Moon explained as best she could through her warbled speech. “It’s been dormant for so long, as has mine. And now--” She opened the compact mirror from her own handbag and held it up in front of Star’s face.

Pink hearts had etched themselves into her skin, one on each cheek. Exactly like the portrait of the princess in the palace. Across from her, Moon put a hand to the diamonds on her own cheeks.

“They’re…” Star sat shocked still, like she had just ridden out a storm and had reached its calm. Only she had come out of it rejuvenated and different than she had been before. No longer a lost scared girl, but a spirited young woman who knew who she truly was.

The queen let the mirror fall to the floor and held both of her hands. No...she had never been just “the queen” to her.

 _“Mom?”_ The word tumbled off Star’s tongue so naturally, yet she sobbed like one who had never had the chance to speak it aloud before.

“Star…” Moon’s shoulders quaked, no longer suppressing her emotions as she cupped the girl's face in her hands. She ran her thumbs over the hearts, wiping aside Star’s flowing tears. Her fingers brushed her blonde bangs. And for the first time, she knew...it was truly the face of her baby girl gazing back at her.

For both of them, the search was finally over.

“Oh, my _Star!”_

“Mommy!” She threw her arms around her neck, weeping harder than ever as years of loneliness and heartache fell away while cradled in the arms of her family.

“My darling! My dear sweet girl!” Moon clutched her and rocked her, letting the tears cascade most unbecomingly as she kissed her hair over and over. After years of regret for letting go of her hand that night, it was the touch of her same hand that had brought Star back to her again.

At long last, mother and daughter were at peace.

 


	9. At The Beginning With You

In retrospect, they should have felt exhausted after everything the day had bestowed upon them, from surprises to angry betrayals to messy yet joyous reunions. But Moon and Star were fueled by their drive to drink in every moment they spent together, where “catching up” seemed like an understatement. As they talked into the night, they easily lost track of the time, and Star was sitting cross-legged on Moon’s bed with an aged photo album open in her lap when the faint rays of dawn’s early light began to peek through the clouds.

“You kept this?” Star said, clearly touched as she unfolded a crayon drawing of Lil’ Chauncy, her mother’s cherished pig-goat, that had been tucked inside the album.

Moon nodded, also sitting rather informally across from her with her hair long and loose. It appeared less like a queen and princess conversing and more like a mother and daughter having a slumber party, both feeling relaxed and happy in their nightdresses. “I tried to keep every drawing you made me. And there were many. Sometimes you would give them to me while I was buried in piles of paperwork and they would get lost in the shuffle, never to be seen again. But some of them are still here.”

“Wow, I...that’s really great of you, Mom.”

“You sound surprised, dear,” Moon cocked her head curiously to the side.

“I mean--okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but…” Star bit her lip as she refolded the drawing, “It didn’t seem like you cared much back then. From what I can remember, I always sort of felt like I was...bothering you.”

Moon lowered her eyes. “I know. I was...rather strict and grave. You see, I was only eighteen when I assumed the throne, one of the youngest heirs in the history of our family. It was all rather sudden, and many of your relatives--older men especially--did not have faith in me.  _‘She’s just a child’_ , _‘She’s not ready’_ , _‘She hasn’t even mastered the Wand yet’_ and so on, every one of them believing they could do the job better than I could. And with the monster realm raging war after war against us, it was doubtful whether I could handle the pressure.”

She turned the album around in Star’s lap so it was facing her, flipping backward a few pages to a certain spread of photos. From her coronation to her first meeting with her council, and even one taken after a battle, her face dirty and bloodied yet glowing with triumph. “I had to work twice as hard as the queens before me to be taken seriously. As a result, I became so wrapped up in being the best monarch I could be that I tended to lose sight of what was truly important.”

“But we won the war,” Star smiled encouragingly, “You accomplished _that_. That was something, wasn’t it?”

“Only to be followed by that violent uprising that tore us apart.” Moon reached up and stroked Star’s cheek. “Now that Mewni is no longer mine to rule and the Butterfly legacy has ended, I’ve tried to strip away every bit of my blue-blooded identity.” She smiled faintly, “There were two momentous events in my life as queen that reminded me what true happiness and fulfillment was. The day you were born.” Star shifted so she was leaning against her mother, and Moon rested her arm around her. “And the day I married River Johansen.”

The princess turned the pages forward to her toddler years; to images of her bouncing on her father’s lap, the jubilant stout man posing with her when she received her first toy sword, and her birthdays--or what few she had celebrated with them.

“Dad,” she mused, tracing her fingers over the pictures. “He wanted me to be as brave and fierce as the women in his clan, while still being Mewni’s princess. We always had fun together...I was his ‘little lady’...”

_“Stay strong for your mother’s sake, my little Star”..._

She felt as if a cold metal vice had clamped down on her heart, squeezing it into pieces as she gently pushed the album aside so her tears wouldn’t fall on the pages. “He was killed that night, wasn’t he?”

“Oh my dearest,” Moon whispered tearfully, pulling her closer still. “He loved you so much. And he would have so loved the woman you’ve become.” Star latched her arms around her waist, burying her face in her chest as her mother kissed the top of her head. Moon had been mourning her husband’s demise for a decade, but her daughter was only just now realizing his fate. And reliving all of the wonderful times they’d had together only made the realization harder to bear. Deep sobs coursed through Star as she grieved in Moon’s arms, the queen hushing her as she stroked her long locks.

“It--it’s not fair,” Star wept, “It’s not _fair_ that he’s gone.”

“He wouldn’t want us to dwell on it. Not now that we have found each other. And besides,” She looked down into her daughter’s gleaming face wrought with anguish. “I see him when I look at you: In your eyes, your hair, your smile, your laughter...and your hugs. Your loving affection all comes from you dear father. And because of that, he will _always_ be here with us.”

Star sat up slowly, wiping her eyes and nose as she composed herself. “I just...wish we’d had more time.” Closing the album shut, she thought of something else nagging at the back of her mind. “Mom, what happened to the Wand?”

“It’s lost,” the queen replied solemnly. “Stolen from me. But I couldn’t care about that as long as your life was in danger.” She sat back straight and tall, looking directly into Star’s eyes. “The Wand is not the future of our lineage, Star. The Wand, and my magic, are not what is most precious to me. _You_ are.”

Sliding off the bed, Moon went over to the vanity and pulled open the bottom drawer. She withdrew a very ornate wooden box, chipped on the corners with age, and clicked it open. Resting on a blue velvet plush cushion was a sparkling golden tiara. Taking it up delicately, she glided back towards the bed as Star’s jaw dropped.

“This is the crown we traditionally give the princess on her fourteenth birthday, when she inherits the Wand.” She placed the tiara on her daughter’s head with all the grace and significance as if it were an official coronation. “I apologize for being a bit late with it.”

Star reached up, feeling the pointed gold edges and smooth round pearls, the clips to hold it in place firmly snug in her blonde bangs. It fit perfectly. And when she stood, letting her mother lead her over to the floor length mirror, she was amazed at how very much she appeared like a grown version of the four-year-old girl in the palace’s faded portrait, or the one plastered on every newspaper. It felt _right_ , assuming her identity as Princess Star Butterfly.

And at the same time, it was all so overwhelming.

 

* * *

 

Marco shut the door behind him once he entered Moon’s parlor, bowing at the waist briefly when he saw her. “You sent for me, Your Majesty?”

Moon wordlessly reached for the large treasure chest on the desk beside her, unclamping the lock on the front and lifting the lid with a slight creak. Inside was an abundance of brilliant gold coins shining in the light from the chandelier overhead, impossible to count at first glance. “Ten million gold pieces, Mr. Diaz. As promised, with my gratitude.”

The Marco Diaz of a month ago would have rushed for the gold in a heartbeat, grabbing the entire chest and racing for the door like a bandit robbing a bank. Today, he just stared. He kept staring, waiting for the glinting pieces to invoke some sort of excitement. Nothing. In fact the longer he looked at them, the more his stomach twisted at exactly who he had been a month ago--who he had been for the past several years. And he had never felt more repulsed by the prospect of money as he did at that moment.

“I accept your gratitude. But…” He drew a deep shaking breath, “My father, Rafael, deserves all the credit. You should give the money to him and my mother. I won’t be taking it.”

The queen’s brow furrowed, closing the lid firmly with a snap. “What _do_ you want then?”

“Nothing,” Marco replied shortly, then backtracked. Might as well be vaguely honest. “Well, nothing you can give me.”

“Marco,” she said gently, not unlike his own mother, sweeping around the front of the table to where he stood. He hadn’t heard her address him by his first name alone since he was four years old, and it was both remarkably jarring and bittersweet. “I might not be standing here at this moment if it wasn’t for you. You were so young, and you showed such loyalty and courage in the face of the worst terror Mewni had ever faced. Your devotion to my daughter brought her back to me. My boy, if anyone deserves this reward, it is you.”

“I can’t take it,” Marco shook his head, avoiding her eyes as he stared at the woven expensive carpet underneath his feet. “Not anymore.”

“Well...you’re certainly more humble and less shouty than the last time we spoke,” Moon remarked, folding her hands primly in front of her. “May I ask _why_ the change of mind?”

He thought of her words, saying that he was devoted to Star, and she was right. Even after all those years believing she was dead, he still kept her with him in a small corner of his heart. That corner only seemed to have spread over time when he spent every waking moment with the orphan girl Star. Training her, fighting with her, teaching her, all the while not realizing that he was bringing the real princess back home to her family.

And when they weren’t fighting, he was admiring her ambition to uncover her past, her passion, her bravery, how strongly she felt about every little thing, from her cheerful laugh at one of his bad jokes to her wistful smile when she talked about her old friends from the orphanage. How much he loved her strong bear hugs and how he couldn’t stand seeing her cry. Before he knew it, she was occupying _every_ corner of his heart. The same heart that now felt as if it were physically aching in his chest.

“It was more a change of...heart.” Without anything more to say, he bowed again. “Please, just give the money to my parents. They deserve it.”

“As you wish,” Moon said as he turned for the door. “If you need anything further, let me know.”

Marco looked up from the floor at that. “Actually, there is one thing you could do for me.”

 

* * *

 

Taking a brisk pace back down the hallway to the staircase, remaining as businesslike as possible, Marco tried to ignore the housestaff arranging flowers and stringing blue silk and pearls around the walls. The decorating was in full swing for the villa’s ball celebrating the return of the long-lost Princess Butterfly, a ball the boy had smartly decided he was not attending. Shoving his hands into his pockets and keeping his eyes on the floor, he hoped he could make it to his next destination without running into--

“Hello, Marco.”

Hearing only those two words in her voice, sounding strangely formal in tone, convinced Marco that the entire universe had to be conspiring against him. Lifting his eyes, he saw Star standing at the top of the stair landing, looking possibly even more beautiful than she had at the ballet. It wasn’t the ball gown--corseted, off the shoulders and flowing in multiple shades of blue that faded in and out of each other with long white gloves reaching her upper arms. Nor the tiara pinned into her coiffed light gold hair that waved and bounced down her back, with matching jeweled earrings and the broken star shard hanging around her neck glittering at her collarbone.

It was in the way she carried herself, lifting her skirt so she could glide to him without tripping. It was in her face--and Marco’s heart skipped a beat--rosy with her inherent pink hearts now having returned, devoid of the furrowed brow and anxiously clenched jaw that had set into her features during their journey here. Now she was confident, her eyes peaceful and pensive as she gazed at him. It was the poise of a girl who had everything together, and had finally found what she was looking for.

“Hello,” he replied simply, standing up straighter as she approached. He hadn’t seen her since she stormed out of the theater after learning of his scheme involving her. And he had certainly been expecting a much more enraged Star when he saw her again, which made this quieter and thoughtful Star leave him taken aback.

“So did you collect your reward?” She raised her eyebrows challengingly, and Marco shirked at responding for a moment.

“My...business is complete,” he finally said with a sigh.

Star simply acknowledged him with a slight nod. Inside, her emotions were anything but simple, swirling and colliding as one fought for control over the others. Anger at his treachery, confusion at his vague reply, affection for her childhood playmate, and of course the forbidden feeling of something deeper that made her heart flipflop at the sight of him. And as such, her internal struggle left her speechless, yet still drawn to him.

What she didn’t know was a similar struggle over deeper emotions was plaguing Marco’s thoughts as well, only leaving a sharp pang pulsating through his heart rather than a hopeful patter. He smiled, and she was struck by the sadness in his brown eyes. “I’m glad you found your family, and you found happiness in that.”

“Yeah, I...I’m glad you did, too,” Star said slowly, still trying to read him. He was definitely acting differently than she expected from someone who was ten million gold pieces richer.

“Princess.” Nothing shocked her more than when he took her hand, lowering himself at the waist and kissing it cordially. She almost stumbled backwards, her heel catching on the hem of her dress in her surprise.

“You--you don’t have to do that,” Star stuttered, yanking her heel free ungracefully. “You never have, Marco.”

“As you wish,” he repeated her mother’s words to him as he dropped her hand. “Goodbye, Star.”

“G-goodbye?” She turned and watched him descend the stairs without looking back at her, and the face of the lost orphan girl returned in full force. Marco’s abrupt departure, without even looking her in the eye, sliced through her chest like a knife, her bleeding heart manifesting in the form of welling tears.

But instead of collapsing to her knees helplessly like she wanted to, she blinked away the tears so they wouldn’t ruin her makeup and whirled away from the stairs. She had a ball to attend and people to meet, and she wasn’t going to let a broken heart get in the way of her big night.

 

* * *

 

“Angie, talk to me.”

“Your tie’s crooked,” Rafael’s petite wife stated curtly, pulling him down by the collar so he was level with her. She tightened the knot around his neck with unnecessary force, nearly strangling him as she bowed it neatly. He ran his hand through his slick combed hair nervously as Angie turned away from him with a huff.

“ _Querida_ , it’s a ball--our first in ten years,”  he begged, zipping up the back of her silk sky blue dress, fabric draping from the sleeves like flowing water. “You cannot give me the cold shoulder all night.”

“Watch me.” She caught Rafael’s face behind her in the mirror, wounded like a kicked puppy, and she sighed deeply. “I can’t believe what Marco did...and worst of all, I can’t believe you let him talk you into it.”

“It’s one of the biggest regrets of my life,” Rafael said honestly, bringing the gold necklace from her vanity around her neck and clipping it. “But believe me, I did not want the money out of greed. I wanted you back with us. I wanted to provide for my _familia_.”

“Rafael.” She looked back around at him, her lip quivering like the young servant girl she had been so long ago. “We don’t need ten million gold pieces. Just a roof over our heads and food on the table is enough for me.” She shook her head, biting her lip as her husband cupped her face, wiping away a tear escaping from the corner of her eye. “But our _son_ …I was terrified of what would become of him while I was gone, and now all I see is that my fears weren’t unfounded!”

“It will be different--it will all be different now, Angie,” he assured her, pulling her close in his strong beefy arms. “The girl has changed him, I know it. And now we can all start fresh again. Speaking of fresh--” Rafael buried his nose in her neck, “What is that enchanting scent?”

“Don’t start,” Angie warned him, then yelped when he nibbled the nape. “I am _trying_ to have a serious conversation with y--”

“We can have that tomorrow!” Rafael cried exuberantly, lifting her up and twirling around with her in the air as she laughed to the ceiling. “Tonight, we dance and drink and celebrate Star’s return!”

There was a knock on their chamber door, and Rafael hastily set his wife back down, who fussed with straightening out her rumpled gown. “My Lady?” she guessed, smoothing her hair down. “Were we being too loud?”

The weighty door opened, and they were surprised to see Marco enter the room. And even more surprised to see that he was not dressed for a gala, but rather in his old faded black pants and red sweater vest.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “I know you two are, uh…” He searched awkwardly for the right phrase. “Catching up.”

“Nevermind darling, what is it?” Angie asked, pulling away from Rafael to move closer, surveying him up and down. “You’re not dressed for tonight.”

“I’m not going to the ball.”

“What?” Rafael barely choked back a laugh. “What will you do, stay in your room?”

“I won’t be in my room either.” He closed the door to give them all privacy, then leaned with his back against it. “I turned down the money from the Queen and told her to give it all to you.”

“But Marco, it will be all of ours!” his father spread his arms wide with a jolly smile. “All three Diazes together again. And in the beautiful city of Paris no less!”

It was then that Marco withdrew his final request from Queen Moon from the inside pocket of his brown jacket: The dimensional scissors that had been kept locked away for their families’ protection, now his to do with as he pleased.

“I’m going back to Mewni.” He said it as easily as he had rehearsed it in his head, looking anywhere but at his parents’ shocked and devastated faces. “I’m sorry, I--I know that’s not what you wanna hear, but...I can’t stay.”

“Why?” Angie cried, clutching her hands to her heart as if to keep it from breaking. “Marco I--I know I was angry, but I’m not disowning you!”

“It’s not that--though you _should_ be mad at me. I just…” He raised his eyes to meet hers, a hot lump making the words stick in his throat. “I don’t belong here.”

“Of course you do! You belong with me and your father--you always have!”

“I’ve made up my mind, Mom.”

Angie flung herself forward and crushed Marco against her, bursting into tears as he returned her grip on him. “Please sweetheart, don’t go. I-I love you so much! I just got you back, Marco, I c-can’t lose you again!”

“I love you too, Mom…” And with that, Marco finally succumbed to his long-buried despair, tears pouring forth as if icicles in his eyes had melted, his mother cradling him while he sobbed along with her. He felt a larger hand cup the back of his head and knew Rafael had joined their embrace, a massive jumble of kisses and tears and whispers of affection.

“Marco.” Rafael remained somewhat composed as his son pulled away from Angie, salty tracks trailing down all of their faces. “You’re making a terrible mistake.”

“No Dad,” Marco croaked out through his hitched breath. “This is the one thing I’m doing _right_. I…” His face crumbled, roughly swiping at his face with the back of his wrist. “I’ve been the worst son, and I put you through so much. And all I can say is I’m sorry, but I know that won’t make it up to you for--for wasting your time on me.”

“You are a _blessing_ ,” the older man stated with all the earnesty of a father whose family was his whole world. He engulfed his weeping son in his arms and they hung on for all it was worth. “You are the greatest blessing of my life, and you always will be no matter what you do.” He kissed his hair, “ _Te quiero, hijo mío._ ”

“I... _te quiero mucho, Papi_ ,” Marco responded with choked sobs, which finally broke through Rafael’s dam. After several moments of unrestrained emotion, they pulled apart and Marco went to grab his bags from the doorway. Giving his mournful parents one last look, he raised his hand halfheartedly. “Goodbye.”

“Marco wait, what about Star?” Rafael’s voice stopped him once more, and Marco gripped the suitcase tighter as he went on. “You can’t go now, not when--!”

“This is the perfect time for me to bow out,” Marco cut him off, his eyes welling up again. “Star has everything she’s ever wanted. She’s finally happy.” Wrenching open the door, he threw his bags out into the hall with a sudden burst of frustration. “Giving her my heart on top of that would just ruin it all.”

And without looking back, he slammed the door on his parents’ unbearably dismayed faces.

 

* * *

 

Star stood off to the side in the villa ballroom a few hours later, watching the couples spin gracefully across the floor in satin gowns and pressed tuxedos. Once she had been properly reintroduced as the Princess of Mewni and the most esteemed of nobility had all kissed her hand and rubbed elbows with her and her mother, she wasn’t left with much else to do except stand around munching on horderves while waiting to be asked to dance. Which she had a couple of times, but once she had expressed to her partners that she was not asking for a courtship, they had slumped away disappointedly. Besides, there was only one person she really wanted to dance with that evening. And she didn’t see him anywhere.

“He’s not there,” came a soft low voice from behind her, and Star turned to see her mother standing there in a gown similar to hers, only decorated in far more jewels to elevate her royal status.

Star tried to look innocent. “Who?”

“You know very well ‘who’.” Moon gave her a knowing look with an arched eyebrow and Star sighed, folding her arms over her chest as if she were cold.

“He’s probably out spending his reward money as fast as he can,” she grumbled, trying her best to be as angry at Marco as she had been the night of the ballet. But there were too many other gentler emotions towards him fighting for space in her chest, so she gave in with an exasperated scowl she hoped her mother didn’t notice.

“Aren’t they lovely?” Moon mused, her gaze having traveled out to the waltzers. “You were born into this world of glittering jewels and grand parties. That being said…” She noticed her daughter was staring out one of the adjacent windows rather than on the ballroom floor, and understanding settled within her. “I wonder if these gorgeous gowns and expensive tastes are what you _really_ want.”

“Of course,” Star said, looking back around at her as if she were crazy. “Of _course_ it is! I’ve spent the past ten years with nothing, and now I found everything! I found _you_. If this--” She gestured around her with a sweep of her arm “--is what it takes for me to have my family back, then--then so be it.”

Moon reached up to tuck a curl behind Star’s ear, then changed her mind and pulled her close for a brief hug. “Now that you have found me, Star, I promise you will always have me. Whatever you choose in life...I will always be your mother.”

“Mom, why’re you talking like that?” Star shook her head as she pulled back. “What would I choose that’s better than this?”

There was something specifically familiar about the faraway look in Star’s glazed eyes, and it had taken Moon several minutes before she remembered why. She herself had done exactly the same thing at her age--tuning out the entire world around her at royal events, everyone who wanted to meet and dance with her, when all she wanted was one person: River Johansen, her late husband.

Placing her hands on Star’s shoulders, Moon leaned in close to her ear. “He didn’t take the money, darling.”

Star’s eyes widened as she stepped back from her. “ _What?_ ”

The queen smiled slightly, her eyes shining. “In the end, it seems he merely wanted what was best for you. Less like the con man he tried to be and more like...well, a little servant boy who just wanted to see the Princess smile.”

Said princess couldn’t have possibly felt more guilty for having those dismissive thoughts about him taking off with the gold. A moment ago she had only fleetingly thought that the luxurious life of a princess wasn’t really for her, but now... _Oh poor Marco._ She knew he must have taken off after he saw her dolled up to the nines for this ball just for her. Once he saw that she had chosen the rightful life for herself that had no place for him in it. As opposed to…

Her mother was right. She did have a decision to make--a _big_ one. It must have shown in her face, for Moon kissed her forehead.

“Whatever you choose, we will always have each other.”

Star opened her eyes to respond to her, but the queen had drifted away from her as if she were in a dream, lost to the crowd of hundreds. Curtseying briefly to the nobles who caught her eye, Star hastened for the darkened front hallway for even just an instant of privacy.

“Ugh _stop it_ ,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her hands irritably over her eyes--before she remembered she was wearing pounds of makeup and sighing loudly in defeat. “It doesn’t matter whether you wanna be a princess or not--the point is you _are_ one. Isn’t this what you wanted? To find out who you are? _This_ was your dream, not--”

She couldn’t even bring herself to say it out loud. If she did, she was afraid instinct would take over and she’d tear off after him on foot, not stopping until she was in his arms. Those arms that had shielded her against the storm raging both in the sky and in her nightmares. That cradled her waist when they waltzed. That had…

Star scrunched up her face, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. A faint wisp of a memory tried to claw its way out of the opaque fog still clouding portions of her mind. There was another time they had held each other...long ago…

_Star Butterfly…_

She gasped, whirling around to locate the whisper that had called to her. But the hallway was deserted except for a breeze wafting through the open front door to let in the spring air. She stopped once she faced the mirror, barely making out her smudged face in the dim light. Except for the hearts, which were perfectly in tact. The royal suit marks of the Butterfly dynasty. Was this really who she was after all?

_Star...Butterfly…_

“What?!” she yelped in surprise, locating the voice far away in the gardens beyond the front doors. “Who is that?!”

_Star…_

She had no idea what possessed her to follow the mystical yet terrifying hush that beckoned her, but anything to get her mind off Marco seemed like a fair trade right now. Hitching up the sapphire and cerulean skirts of her dress, she dashed off into the hedge maze in the courtyard, feeling the pointed angles of the gold shard around her neck thump against her chest as she ran.

_Star Butterfly…_

She barely noticed the plants materialize behind her, growing up into yet another wall-high hedge to block her exit.

 

* * *

 

Marco gripped the scissors tight in one hand and his luggage in the other as he walked out the side door of the manor for the last time. No more queens and princesses, no more schemes, no more parents--no more of any of those things that caused him some of the worst pain he’d ever known. It was time to start over again.

Opening the blades, he snipped the still air before him and the white light of the dimensional portal ripped a hole in space. Where he was going and what he was going to do he still didn’t know. He’d track down Alfonzo and Ferguson once he arrived back on Mewni, they’d help him out. Maybe--

_“Who is that?!”_

His foot had been just about to pass through the swirling vortex when he heard a shout back by the garden hedges. Not just any shout. The shout of an irritable blonde orphan girl he had grown all too familiar with over the past several weeks. Jerking his head to the right, he heard the faint clattering of heels from several feet ahead.

The glowing blue of a royal Mewnian ball gown fluttering in the breeze, waved golden hair trailing behind her head--Star was racing towards the decorative hedges with definitive purpose.

Marco’s gaze flickered between the open portal awaiting him and her running into the gardens. Whatever it was, he was sure she was fine. There was nothing to worry about. Star was completely capable on her own. It was no longer his place to interfere, and it was best to just leave quietly.

And that’s when he saw the hedge materialize behind her retreating form, the twisted entangled plants glowing with a sickeningly green aura.

 


	10. Final Confrontation

Water rippled beneath the bridge just beyond the villa property line, in a clearing the garden hedge maze unveiled if one managed to reach its end. Perched on the side overlooking the rushing river, a sceptre with a long silver handle glinted under the streetlights, being waved idly back and forth by a scaled clawed hand, smoke swirling in the air as it emitted from the fractured half of a large broken green jewel. Not a single word needed to pass from Toffee’s lips as he waited for his honored guest to arrive. The mist floating away from him into the hedges did all the work for him.

“What’s taking her so long?” Ludo muttered, pacing at his general’s feet. He squawked as Toffee’s tail whipped him aside, slamming him into the stone facing of the bridge.

“Quiet,” Toffee grumbled, giving the wand a flourishing twirl in the air as he peered down at his subordinate, who rubbed the tender spot on the back of his head. “You’d be surprised what little effort is required on my part, Ludo. _I_ am the Wand’s wielder, and yet it can sense that its true heir is near.”

 _“Star Butterfly…”_ the smoke exhaled, and Ludo squinted up at it, cocking his head to the side.

“I only needed to give it a voice,” Toffee explained, running his nail up and down the slender handle. “With a little help from dark magic, to make sure she can’t get away.” A sharp rustling of branches from several yards ahead confirmed that Star had passed another one of his markers. Her faint shriek of surprise made his lips curl upward. “She’s almost here. Subconsciously drawn to the calling of her inheritance.”

“Sir, I know you _hate_ when people question your motives--”

“You’re right, I do,” Toffee responded shortly, his previously lightened yellow eyes dimming in annoyance.

“--but did it ever occur to you that this might backfire _horribly?”_ Ludo finally exclaimed, throwing his arms over his head. “What if she gets the best of you?”

“She won’t.” The general’s whisper became more like a growl, closing his fingers tighter around wand handle. “As long as this remains out of her hands, the power still rests with me. It has for ten years despite hibernation. It would take more than just the girl’s presence to shift its allegiance.” He whipped his glowing-eyed, razor-toothed head back down to Ludo, looking slightly crazed. “Now go. She’s coming.”

“What?! But you said I could come with you to--!”

“I _said_ you could _watch_.” Raising a single finger, he levitated the tiny creature over to the outermost hedge and pinned him against it, branches and brambles attaching to his wrists and ankles like suction cups. “Just in case you get any ideas to interfere without my orders.”

Ludo sighed defeatedly. “Same routine, different location, eh?”

 

* * *

 

Even though she was outside under a vast sky that stretched endlessly into the universe, Star felt as if she were being suffocated. Covering her mouth to stifle a scream, she saw that her way out had been blocked directly behind her, the hedge wall growing several feet above her head with no way to climb over it. She regretted even coming out here in the first place, but she couldn’t stay there and give up, letting the smothering walls consume her. She had to keep moving the only direction she could: Forward.

Another whisper of her name seemed to grab her by the hand and tug her down the path, and she panted from both exertion and the sense of panic that had gripped her. She had grown so used to the sensation of her heels sinking into the grass softened by dew that once she hit cobblestone road again, it threw her off-balance. Her foot turning on its side, she toppled forward onto the pavement, flinging her arms out to break her fall. Hissing in pain as they scraped the ground roughly, Star yanked the multitudinous layers of skirt aside as she stood, eyes darting here and there at her surroundings.

She had never gone past the hedge garden before, nor had she known that there was a bridge arched over a vast river lined with streetlamps. With a snap, the lamps on either side of her blew out. Two by two, they slowly plunged her into darkness, and Star began to breathe rapidly and heavily, as she had the day she entered the passageway into the abandoned Mewni palace. She had thought those days of cold dread brought on by shadowed memories were behind her now. But there was something about this bridge...there had also been one in the castle courtyard...a bottomless river...someone sank beneath the surface.

“Princess Star Butterfly.” Only one lamp remained lit, illuminating the figure beneath it who called her name not in a whisper, but in a deep persuasive voice as smooth as velvet. The smoke surrounding him dissipated, and Star saw a half-lizard, half-crocodile hybrid standing halfway down the bridge, his dark hair slicked to his shoulders and his grey scales nearly all covered by a suit of armor. A red cape fluttered in the breeze behind him as he moved towards her, one hand held behind his back as he gestured with the other.

“Your most esteemed Highness,” the creature drawled, sweeping into a low courtly bow. “Look at what ten years has done to us.” He waved his arm in her direction and Star felt her body lurch around as she spun in place, enveloped by sickly green smoke. “You, the exact image of your mother at that age. And me, nothing but the revived corpse of a fallen monster.”

Star couldn’t run. She couldn’t even step backward. She was frozen, completely rooted to the spot. Just like when she met him-- _Wait._ When she met him the _first_ time?

“I know you…” she muttered hushedly, holding her scraped arm out in front of her as if it would prevent him from coming any closer.

Toffee gave her a slow, almost patient nod. “You do. Last seen at a party like this one. It was your very first ball. Remember?”

“The smoke,” Star recalled, her eyes widening. “It was everywhere, all over the floor.” She saw her mother brandishing the wand before being flung aside, a crowd of gasping adults and crying children…

_...“If you touch my daughter, you won’t live to tell about it”..._

_...“I will not rest until every last trace of your bloodline is wiped from the face of the universe!”..._

_…“How dare you show your face here again!”..._

“Toffee!” The name spat from her lips as if she had finally diagnosed a long-term ailment, a cross between relief and underlying rage. “The monster general.”

“Very good,” Toffee congratulated her. He had stopped walking, far enough away that he could not physically grab her, yet still too close for comfort. Star balled her fists at her sides, standing her ground. “And you’re the sole heir to a barbaric legacy. Land that was rightfully ours was conquered by your ancestors. Century after century, war after war, and the Butterfly dynasty _always_ managed to come out on top. Why, Princess, do you think that is?”

Before Star could open her mouth to respond, she was knocked off her feet in an instant. Green light burst in front of her face as she was flung to the ground, all the air knocked out of her lungs when her back hit the pavement.

“This paralyzing jinx is temporary, so I’ll make it quick.” Star grunted as she struggled against the invisible bonds holding her in place, Toffee bearing down on her with a giant silver sceptre pointed at her chest. A numbing sensation spread across her body as if she had plunged her arms and legs into icy water, and real fear gripped Star for the first time. “The royal family had the advantage of magic on their side, leaving the monster realm at its mercy. I merely sought to even the score.”

“You wanted to overpower us,” Star seethed, sitting up as far as she could. “You threatened my family. Did you really believe _killing_ us was gonna solve everything?”

“I would have been more than satisfied silencing that innocent little scream of yours once and for all.” Star squeezed her eyes shut, twisting her head away as the general swiped his hand at her, halting just before his claws clamped around her slender neck. “Hearing your mother’s mournful cry before I finished her as well. Showing all of Mewni that at the end of the day, there was nothing exceptional about the royals after all. That they’re nothing but a handful of ordinary Mewmans who happened to get lucky.”

“Congratulations, you got your wish.” Star snapped her glare back around at him, despite his nails being inches from her skin and the smoking sceptre poised to strike. “Our reign is over, so why are you still after me?”

“As long as you’re alive, you are a threat. As long as your heart beats, magic will never belong to the Mewnian race who deserves it.”

Star looked from the sharp-featured reptile’s face to the weapon in his hand. Attached to the silver handle, sparks spewed from the head with a fractured half missing. It seemed off. _Why would he wield a cleaved sceptre?_

In his hunger to destroy her, Toffee didn’t realize his aim had shifted, pointing directly at the golden shard nestled in her collarbone. His calm gaze betrayed a flicker of concern when the smoke stopped its incessant swirling and changed direction, as if being siphoned out of the head into this piece of crystal...

The realization dawned on them both at the same time, in a moment that seemed to last eons. The bridge around her fell away, and Star was lost to her mind’s eye: This same creature howling in pain, blood from his hand dribbling onto the snow...she had scrambled away so she wouldn’t fall into....the frozen pond where Toffee had drowned.

After they had struggled over… _the Wand._

A hot burst of energy shot through Star, tearing an inhuman roar through her throat. “That’s _mine!_ ”

Toffee had less than a second to react, but luckily her reflexes were poor due to the numbing jinx. Swinging his wand arm around, he lifted Star off her feet until she hovered in the air before him several feet off the ground. The green aura surrounded her, snapping her arms at her sides and binding her legs together. “Spoiled little princess. Can’t share her toys.”

“You _stole_ it--you disarmed my mother!” Star shrieked, writhing under the spell.

“And your magic stole Mewni from my people!” Toffee snarled back. “I’m taking back what rightfully belongs to the monster race!”

“Not to monsters like _you_ ,” Star stated coldly, “Who murder and torture, fueled by vengeance alone.”

“You have no idea what your family did to me, you ignorant _stupid_ child.” He flicked the wand with his wrist and Star felt the spell’s hold on her tighten. “Nor do you seem to grasp who has the upper hand here. Now I’m going to finish what I should have taken care of myself that night. And once I’m done with you, I’ll dump your corpse at your mother’s feet before taking care of _her_.” Advancing closer, the green light reflecting in Toffee’s yellow eyes, he pointed the wand at various parts of her immobile form. “Now, Butterfly, how should we clip your wings?”

“Gener--!”

“Talk again and you’re a goner.”

Both the reptile and princess were yanked back to reality at the sound of two more voices. Toffee scowled, looking away from Star to reprimand his irritating subordinate--until he took in the sight before him. Ludo was still bound to the hedge, his eyes wide as he squawked in horror. And brandishing a knife at his neck was--

“Marco!” Star cried, seeing him out the corner of her eye, as she could only turn her head so far.

“Drop her, or I slit his throat,” the boy sneered as he stepped out of the shadows, his shoulders heaving up and down as if he’d just run ten miles. Star glanced briefly down at the distance between her feet and the cobblestone. _‘Drop her’? Not the best choice of words, Marco._

Toffee looked between Marco and Ludo, captor and captive, before he burst into laughter. It was by far the most eerie uncomfortable sound Star had heard thus far--hoarse, dry and rasping as if he hadn’t exerted his lungs in years, yet robust enough to send a chill down her spine. “Fine, kill him!” he chortled. “He’s been useless to me for ages!”

Marco’s fierce expression faltered. “Wait, you--you don’t care--?”

“I couldn’t care less.” The laughter died in his throat as he leered directly at Ludo, raising an eyebrow at him, and the birdlike man relaxed slightly. The boy was just as much a child as Star. He didn’t have such bloodlust in him, and they both knew it.

“But _you_ ,” the general went on, nodding in Marco’s direction as he watched him lower the knife. “You do care. You’d care very much if I hurt her.”

“Don’t!” Marco shouted, reaching towards them as Toffee flicked the wand again, causing Star to inhale sharply from an invisible pain.

“Get outta here, Marco,” Star panted, straining over her shoulder to look at him. “I’m serious, he’s just gonna kill you too.”

“Well, first thing’s first...” Toffee aimed the wand at her head, “Yes, we’ll go for the neck. Snap it around and watch you fall.” He grinned madly at Star whimpering like a fly trapped in a spiderweb. “Pathetic. At least King River didn’t _snivel_ when I did it to him.”

Everything around Star fell still, as if time itself had stopped at his words. The sound of the wand’s magic crackling faded and grew muffled as blood pounded in her ears. The hot rage-filled bubble inside her finally burst, and she saw Toffee’s jaw drop when she wrenched her arms free.

“You…” she growled, feeling her cheeks grow hot, “ _disgusting_...piece of _meat!_ ”

“How is she doing that?!” Ludo shrieked, gaping as the princess kicked her legs through the green aura flickering around her. Her blue eyes and rosy hearts seemed to glow in the dark as she spread her arms wide, the shimmering bonds holding her in place falling away.

“No...she's awakened,” Toffee breathed, backing away shaking his head. “She’s ignited her inner power. But h--?”

Star yelped and flailed once the aura disappeared, unable to sustain the sudden magical abilities she had discovered. As a result, she landed hard and crumpled onto the pavement.

“Star!” Marco abandoned his threat to Ludo and sprinted to where she hit the ground.

“No you don't,” Toffee said calmly, relief washing over him at Star’s obvious inexperience. He swept the wand almost lazily and Marco was blasted backwards, sliding along the ground on his back.

“Marco!” Star tried to get up but Toffee shoved his boot into her stomach, pinning her down.

“You’re not moving either.”

“I’m not scared of you anymore, you _coward!_ ” Knowing that this creature had killed her father, had destroyed the family and the life that she would never know again, filled her with a fury that overruled any fright. And fury gave her strength to fight back, even though the odds were severely stacked against her.

“That was your parents’ problem,” he hissed down at her. “They also weren't scared of me.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “You can't fly, so let's see if you can _swim._ ”

With a strangled cry, Star felt herself being hoisted off the ground via magic once more, only this time she traveled. With a grand sweep of his wand arm, Toffee flung her over the edge of the bridge. The aura appeared to be weaker than before--Star was uncertain whether it was her doing or not--which allowed her to grab onto the stone barrier to keep from falling into the river.

Toffee growled at her resilience and shot the scepter in her direction again. The smoke swirled larger and higher above their heads before careening down on the princess like the gusting winds of a storm at sea. Star clung to the railing like a lifeline as the sickly green wind rushed at her, stones and branches striking her face and tearing at her dress as they blew past, the current trying its damndest to force her off the bridge to her death.

“Long live Mewni!” the reptilian general cackled over the gusts as Star lost the grip on her right hand, dangling only by her left. So focused was he on waiting for her to plummet that he failed to see Marco charging at him until he tackled him to the ground. The wand flew out of Toffee’s claw and clattered away from him, causing the cursed winds to dwindle and vanish.

“She’s not the only one who suffered because of you,” Marco snarled into Toffee’s face, pressing him against the ground with his whole body. He knew the general outmatched him in muscle and height, but he had to delay any more magic being used to Star’s disadvantage. Sinking one fist into the reptile’s stomach, he grabbed his throat with the other and squeezed hard. “The likes of you took me out once when I was a kid. But I’m a lot stronger now, I know how to fight. And I won’t let you hurt me _or_ Star again!”

He bellowed in pain as his head was snapped back by a set of claws digging into his scalp, dragging him backwards with surprising strength. But they did not belong to Toffee.

“Ludo!” the general wheezed. “I ordered you not to--!”

“It’s _you!”_ The tiny lieutenant completely ignored Toffee’s reprimand as he tightened his hold on Marco’s head, spewing anger-fueled spit into his face. “You’re that little boy! The one I found in the Queen’s chambers! I should have finished you when I had the chance!”

“What are you on about?!” Toffee roared, his left eye twitching. He didn’t seem to have noticed Star grunting as she fought to climb back up onto the bridge.

“He helped them escape!” Ludo shrieked hysterically, yanking Marco’s head around by his hair.

“It’s true,” Marco panted and hissed from the searing pain in his scalp, fixating on Toffee’s enraged visage with a sense of satisfaction. “Your lackey here failed to kill all of the royal family because of me.”

“He’s the reason they slipped from my grasp! _He saved the Princess’ life back then and he’s going to do it again now!_ ”

As soon as Star regained her footing, she nearly slipped again as a wave of shock left her breathless. She had pulled herself up far enough that she could see Marco in Ludo’s clutches when she overheard what they were saying.

 _Was...was it really…?_ Shutting her eyes, she blocked out the world around her, focusing her rekindled inherent magic that had helped her regain her memories with her mother. She tried to bring up that horrible night: The wall panel was open...her mother urged her to follow her inside...banging and shouting...she was weeping desperately...hugging someone as small as she was, not wanting to let go…

_...“I’ll find you later! Go!”..._

She had been forcibly pulled away from the embrace...and his face burst clearly through the fog.

It _was_ him. Marco Diaz, the little servant boy, her best friend, was her savior that night.

“ _Well_ then.” All traces of attempted cordiality were gone, Toffee’s breath rattling in his throat as his rotting stench filled Marco’s nostrils. “I guess fate gave you a second chance, Ludo. Looks like I’ll have two bodies to deliver to the Queen.”

 _“No!”_ Star screamed, throwing herself back over the barrier with newfound agility and diving for the wand. But Toffee rolled over easily and snapped it up before she could, blasting her back over the side. She hooked her hands around one of the lamp posts, but this time Toffee hovered above her as she dangled over the water.

“We’ve played this game long enough.” Seizing her by the hair, he yanked her up until her face was level with his, watching her writhe in agony. “Rest in peace, Your Highness.” Opening his claw, she fell away from him with a shrill screech, and for good measure he blasted the railing so it crumbled apart.

“No-- _Star, no!_ ” Marco threw Ludo off his back, several hairs parting from his head in the process, and lunged at Toffee again.

“Hold this!” the general commanded, hurling the sceptre at Ludo and out of Marco’s reach.

“I got it, I got it!” But it soared high over the petite subordinate’s head and rolled away over the cobblestone. “Gah, curse my short arms!”

“I hate those things,” Toffee deadpanned. As Ludo raced after the wand, huffing and puffing all the way, Marco wrenched himself from the foul-smelling lizard to take off behind him.

“Marco!”

He skidded to a stop when he heard her voice, strained and desperately calling out to him.

“She’s _alive?”_ Toffee croaked with another rattling breath.

“ _Marco!_ ”

The general whirled around in a flash of red, calling upon the dark arts once more to stop Marco from aiding her, but missed as he hurtled past him. Sliding onto his stomach, Marco leaned over the dilapidated side of the bridge. Star was clinging to a piece of debris, looking just as shocked as he was that she wasn’t fish food by now, and he threw both of his hands out to grab hers.

“You’re okay,” Star breathed out.

“ _I’m_ okay?!” Marco gaped at her, gripping her hands with every ounce of strength he possessed. Aside from overlooking a few hundred foot drop, her dress was also tattered and she bled in several places on her face, head and arms. “How--how are you not--?!”

“I don’t know!” she cried, hoisting herself up to grab the surface still intact--and it was then Marco noticed the glow receding from her hearts. “I was falling, but then I just stopped in mid-air and floated for a second. So I grabbed onto the--” She gasped as her sweaty fingers began to slip.

“I got you!” Marco reinforced his hold on her wrists, “I’m not letting go, I promise!”

“I just--I couldn’t let Toffee--!”

“Have the Wand?”

“--kill you!” Star finished between strenuous grunts. “I had to save you!”

“So you saved yourself,” Marco realized, completely taken aback. He looked down at their clasped hands. “Wait, do you even need me?”

“Just help me up!” Star groaned in exasperation. She grabbed Marco by the upper arms as he supported her elbows, neither of them taking their eyes off each other. “If we live through this, remind me to thank you.”

“Forget about _me_ \--!”

“No! I _won’t!”_ Her voice broke, and not due to her toiling efforts to keep from falling. Marco pulled her closer to drag her back onto the bridge, and saw a deep earnesty glittering in her light blue eyes that told him she meant it from the bottom of her heart.

They both shouted as a shot of green light blinded them, forcing their arms apart. Star slid down the crumbled edge again and hung on with both hands while Marco rolled away from Toffee’s attack.

“Bravo, what a beautiful exchange.” With the sceptre back in his hand, Toffee advanced on him, the weapon pointed at his chest. Marco could see the adrenaline of the fight was taking its toll on the general’s revived body: His eyes were deranged with slitted pupils, open sores oozed on his neck and jaw, his hair tangled and matted, and he panted like a wolf about to pounce on his dinner.

“Yes, yes _yes!”_ Ludo cheered him on from behind. “Annihilate him for his treason!”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not going to kill him yet,” Toffee said simply as if it were common knowledge. “First, he’s going to watch Star Butterfly die.”

“You can do whatever you want to me, just leave her alone!” Marco yelled up at him defiantly.

“Oh no, you need to see this,” the general shook his head at him like he was scolding a child. “You need to see your efforts to protect the girl who means so much to you fail. You have to break, so you’ll be willing to die by my hand.” He watched with glee as the boy’s face contorted from fear to anguish.

“You’re right,” Marco whispered, “I couldn’t do it...I couldn’t save her again.” His eyes flickered briefly over Toffee’s shoulder before looking back down at the wand. He swallowed hard, “Can I have a last request though?”

“And what’s that?”

“Let me touch the Wand.” He held his hand out gently, pleadingly. “Please. I need something to remember her by.”

Toffee dropped his wand arm, his expression shifting between incredulous and repulsion. “Are you mad? ‘Let you touch it’? Do you honestly think I’m _that_ stupid?”

“Nope.” And with a glint in his eye, Marco sprang up from the ground with lightning quick speed and swiped the sceptre from his slackened grip. “But you _did_ let your guard down.”

“You--!”

 _“Heads up!”_ Flinging the wand into the air, it soared high over Toffee’s head towards the bridge railing. But it was intercepted before it plummeted over the side. Standing under the street lamp’s spotlight, hair and frayed gown rippling in the wind, Star grinned from ear to ear as she reached up with one hand and snatched the royal heirloom.

“No--no no _no no no!_ ” Toffee dropped to his knees, pounding the ground with his fists as he shrieked and rasped, rounding his back as he clawed at the stone, saliva dripping from his clenched pointed teeth as he snarled wordlessly.

Star held the wand in front of her as its appearance transformed in the hands of its rightful wielder. The silver handle shortened and bloomed pink, the green jewel rescinded, replaced with a circular head sprouting little white wings, and in the center was half of a golden star.

“ _Stop!_ ” Toffee screamed in pure terror, but it was too late. Star ripped off the gold fragment hanging from her neck and placed it inside the head beside its sister half. Sparks flew out from all sides and she quickly withdrew her hand as the two halves mended themselves. All four of them jumped back as a wave of pink magic washed over the area, dousing out any trace of sickly green. The wand glowed good as new once again.

“Don’t come any closer,” Star warned as Toffee made a mad dash for her, and she aimed her new weapon at him. As if at her mental beck and call, a shield grew from the glowing star and brutally shoved the general back against the hedge.

“Whoa!” Marco exclaimed in amazement, whipping his head between her and Toffee. “What else does that thing do?”

“It’s like--it answers my thoughts!” Star stated excitedly as she clutched it with both hands.

“Give it to me!” Ludo’s shout drew out into a long war cry as he leapt at her, but she pointed the wand at him next, sending him sprawling in another burst of pink hearts and butterflies.

“Your spells are kind of...cute,” Marco remarked carefully so as not to offend her, chuckling at the magical winged insects fluttering over Ludo’s head.

“I know,” Star frowned, shaking the wand vigorously. “Hey!” she yelled at it as if it could answer her. “Gimme something useful! Something _really_ powerful!”

“Star, look out!” She heard Marco’s call, but reacted too late. Toffee pounced on her back on all fours, knocking her onto her stomach. She was winded, but her hold on the wand remained steadfast.

“You think you can just wave your Wand and instantly defeat me, little girl?” He hissed his putrid rotting breath down her shoulder as she arched her head away from his cold nose brushing her neck. “Cast a few spells and everything will go away? That’s not how it works.” His teeth were practically touching her ear now, “You have to _mean_ it, with your whole body and soul.”

He was interrupted as a pair of hands pried him off the princess and threw him across the stone. As Toffee got his bearings, an arm hooked itself around his neck and pulled tight, slowly cutting off what was left of his circulation.

“I _said_ to leave her alone,” Marco breathed heavily, struggling to hold him down as the slippery reptile twisted like a wild animal against him. Star leapt up from the ground, biting her lip as she readjusted her wand’s aim several times, trying to figure out how to take out Toffee without hurting Marco as well.

“Ludo!”

“You’re on your own, sir,” Ludo declared, backing away from the armed Star warily. “This can only end in tears.”

“ _Traitorous coward!_ ” Flinging his arms behind him, Toffee dug his elongated claws into Marco’s back and flipped him over his shoulder, the horrifying sound of tearing flesh accompanying it. Star was so distracted by the dark stain spreading across Marco’s torso that her next spell clumsily misfired, ricocheting off a toppled lamp post and hitting one of the bulbs, sending glass flying everywhere.

She backed away as animal instinct seemed to completely take over the fallen general, hatred and rage so consuming him that he was beyond rational thought or speech. He let out a savage roar as the falling shards of glass pierced his head, rivulets of blood running down his face. For a moment he remained still, panting on the ground, his wild eyes darting aimlessly before focusing on the girl. His claws sprang back into view, and Star readied herself for his attack.

But it didn’t come. At the last second, the beast changed direction and bounded towards Marco, who tried to crawl away. But the loss of blood made his limbs quiver under his weight and he collapsed, fully succumbing as Toffee sliced his skin, one slap after another of nails like razors. Kicking him onto his back, Marco’s head lolled to the side, his breaths ragged and shallow. Toffee wheezed out crazed maniacal laughter once the boy’s neck was exposed. Raising his arm high over his head, he prepared to deliver the final blow to his jugular.

_“Don’t touch him!”_

An explosion that shook the very ground beneath them lit up the sky, a cloud of bright magenta filling the air as a murderous spell knocked Toffee off his feet, sending him crashing into the stone facing. The impact cracked his armor in several places and shredded his cape, but he remained conscious enough to see the light fade, revealing Star’s face. He didn’t run when he saw how serious, how utterly deadly she appeared before him with her hearts shining once more. No, he could still see her eyes betraying her true emotions while the wand trembled in her hands.

“There it is,” he rasped, pushing himself up from the ground as clumps of metal fell from his body and clattered on the stone, pointing a shaking finger at her. “ _There’s_ that fear. I saw it in Moon’s eyes that night, when I endangered you and claimed the Wand as my own. And now…” His dripping smile nearly swallowed his whole bloody face as he limped towards her, his yellow eyes about to bulge from his skull. “It appears I’ve finally found your weakness, Princess.”

As if for emphasis, he whipped Marco’s body aside with his tail, and Star only briefly let her gaze dart to him before concentrating back on Toffee. He was right, she was scared. Terrified in knowing that any moment Marco could breathe his last if she didn’t harness the magic within her to the wand itself.

_…“It’s not just for fighting monsters, but for assuming responsibility for the protection of all of Mewni”..._

Her Mewni was gone. But that didn’t matter. There was still someone she needed to protect. And she couldn’t fail, not now when he needed her most.

With a covetous cry of triumph, Toffee lunged his hands forward to use the dark arts and rip the wand from Star’s grasp, as he had from her mother all those years before. But it did not budge. Glancing down at his hands, a puzzled sound emitting from the back of his throat, the feral creature tried again.

“ _No_ ,” the princess declared gravely, the wand’s magic swirling around her hands as if binding itself to her as she drew nearer to Toffee. “Not this time.”

“I don’t understand! How--why won’t it--?!”

“Because I have nothing left to lose,” Star replied stonily. “There’s _nothing_ else you can take away from me. But I’m still here. And that’s the one thing you can’t take.” She stood tall with her chin in the air, raising her voice to a fever pitch. “I am, and I’ll always be, Princess Star Butterfly! The only daughter of King River and Queen Moon Butterfly, _and_ the Royal Wand’s true heir!”

A shockwave of both pink and green shot from her and wrapped around Toffee like a cocoon, rendering him still as a statue. She towered over him, pressing her heeled shoe into his stomach to hold him down.

“That was for my kingdom!” She shut her eyes, concentrating as the sparks twisted into a frenzy over her head. Her blue orbs shone with blazing ire when she opened them again. “ _This_ is for my father!”

“You devil!” Toffee managed to howl before he was hit square in the chest. He clawed at his own scales frantically as his body began to decompose, unable to handle the repercussions of her spells’ damage. With what was left of his dwindling strength, he grabbed her ankle and hurled her to the ground beside him.

“And this…” Her eyes found the body lying a few feet away, smearing the stone beneath him with blood--and it lit the final fire inside her flaring heart, “is for _Marco!”_

Swiveling around, Star collided the head of the wand forcefully with Toffee’s forehead. The golden star pressing directly against him, the reptile had no choice but to yield to the full brunt of the princess’ magical dominance. His roar of pain was drowned out only by the deafening eruption of the blast, which flung Star herself backwards. She landed beside Marco’s dangerously still form and threw herself over him to shield him as everything around them quaked destructively. In the wash of light that almost deceived her into thinking it was daytime, she saw the general’s body and skeleton disintegrate, the grey fragments fluttering almost peacefully away in the wind, which died down to a gentle breeze almost as quickly as it had been disrupted.

Another much smaller flash of light ignited across the way as Star heard the familiar _swoosh_ of a dimensional portal being opened. Ludo hurtled into it without a second thought, slashing a small pair of scissors through the air as it shut behind him. She let him go, it didn’t faze her. Enough damage had been done tonight.

As the sky darkened once more to inky midnight blue, Star sat up hastily to turn her attention to Marco. After numbing herself to finish off the vindictive general once and for all, the whirlwind of emotions rushing back at her were more than she could handle.

“Marco?” she called softly, her heart hammering in her chest as she cradled him in her lap. She drew a shuddering breath when her hand passed over the deep gash in the middle of his back. “No...no no no, Marco c’mon, you can fight this. C’mon, look at me.” She patted his cheek gently, but his eyes remained closed. His pale face didn’t even twitch, and she felt a hard cold pit of dread sink into her stomach like a boulder.

Thinking fast, Star reached beside her and took up the wand, holding it under the wound staining her torn dress with blood. _You gotta have a healing spell in there somewhere. Come on, you got me this far...don’t give up on me now._ A warm glow of blue glistened over the torn flesh, and the bleeding slowed to a stop as it congealed messily. It wasn’t perfect, but it would hold for now.

“Marco…?” Her voice trailed off when she realized he still wasn’t moving. “Wake up, _please_.” Her hand trembled as it cupped his face, wiping blood from his nose and mouth. His breaths were infrequent, his pulse faint, and Star felt as if the ground was giving out underneath her when she registered what was happening. Despite giving it her all, she may have been too late.

A searing ache shot through her chest as she dissolved into sobs, clutching Marco’s body against her. “I’m sorry! I am so sorry Marco, for _everything!_ I was so h-horrible to you when I found out you lied, and a-all that time I d-didn’t even know that you--!” The little cherub-cheeked boy emerging from the secret passage flashed before her eyes, and Star bawled even harder. “I _know_ it was you, Marco. You got me out of the castle that night. You--you were always looking out for me. And you still did, right up until...until…” She couldn’t say _“the end”_ aloud, it was too much for her to bear.

“I’m--I’m just really sorry,” she repeated, overcome by weeping as she pressed her forehead against his, tears falling from her eyes onto his unmoving face. “You didn’t deserve this. I should’ve tried harder to protect you, too. I should’ve just told you that I--that--”

Marco felt his muddled mind pierce the surface of conscious thought, every part of his body screaming in pain, feeling someone’s shuddering arms holding him close. Drops of water splashed against his cheeks, and he figured it must be raining--until he heard Star sobbing as if her heart was breaking and realized it was her tears. Drawing breath with some difficulty, he managed to exhale one word.

“Star…”

She pulled away from him with a loud gasp as his eyes opened at last. The sight of those deep pools of chocolate brown gazing up at her filled her with such ecstasy that she couldn’t help grabbing him and crushing him in a suffocating embrace.

“Marco!”

“Ow-- _oww!_ Loosen up a little, would you?!”

“Oh sorry!” Star released him promptly, but he still hung onto her shoulders as he sat up gingerly.

“I know, ‘boys are babies’,” Marco winced as he slid into a sitting position. His concern shifted to her, seeing that she was also wounded in several places. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine!” she waved off dismissively, “I thought _you_ were--!” She stopped when she met his significant look, and she realized this was their first time speaking since her memories fully returned. The full scope of who he was and what he meant to her crashed down on her at once. “Marco…” She held his face again. “Marco Diaz.”

He nodded. “Told you I’d find you later.”

Fresh tears poured down Star’s cheeks as she half laughed, half sobbed, “You didn’t say it was gonna be _ten years!”_ She hugged him around the neck as Marco buried his face in her shoulder, basking in each other’s scents and tears as the two childhood friends were finally reunited.

“I didn’t _want_ to believe it was you,” Marco’s breath hitched, salty streams soaking into her hair. “I was so stubborn. And ‘cause of that, I just treated you like a pawn in my scheme. But it’s you...it really is you. _I’m_ the one who’s sorry, Star.”

Star could only nod, indicating that she forgave him while she clung to his injured form as tightly as she dared. They could have sat there melted in each other’s embrace for hours, but the fact that Star had too many questions for him broke the tranquil mood.

“Wait, I thought you were leaving,” she choked out, helping him to his feet.

“I was, until I saw Toffee trap you.” Marco kept his hands around her waist for support, leaning on his less wounded side. “I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.”

“Mom said you didn’t take the--”

“No, I--I couldn’t.” He smiled, looking down at his feet almost shyly. “Once I saw how happy you were, I just...didn’t care about the reward anymore. Maybe, deep down, I never really did.”

Star placed her finger under his chin and lifted his head, her eyes sparkling. Truth be told, she had never cared for him more than she did at that very moment. “Why did you wanna go? And without _telling_ me? Don’t--don’t you--?”

“I do,” Marco replied sincerely, holding her hand in his as his thumb brushed over her scraped skin. “That’s why. You’re my Princess, and that’s all you’re supposed to be. That hurts too much. I couldn’t be near you and--and love you as much as I do while you...didn’t.” He hung his head, his heart lying bare in her hands, waiting for her to break it.

Star sniffled, her own heart swelling in her chest. “You never asked.”

Marco’s head snapped up, certain that he heard wrong. “What?”

“You never asked me if I did or not.” She saw everything about both of them in his eyes: Her own past, present and future. And while there was still so much uncertainty, so many things she yearned to experience, she had never felt more at home than she did with Marco--whether he was fighting by her side to defeat a monster tyrant, lifting her up in her darkest moments, or standing in front of her with very little space between them as he was now. She didn’t only want him, she _needed_ him.

Star slowly began to close the distance between their lips and Marco caught on, letting his eyes fall closed. As she stepped forward, she accidentally kicked something on the ground aside with her shoe, making a loud rattling sound. Her eyes flying open, she glanced down and saw the wand lying forgotten at her feet.

“Don’t wanna lose this.” Marco bent down with a dry laugh and retrieved the sacred heirloom, handing it gently back to her. “Really, we should probably head back. Your mother has to be worried sick about you.”

Star nodded solemnly. Neither of them took their eyes off the wand.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Mom,_

_I hate to say you were right, but -- well, you were right. Maybe spending the rest of my life doing what princesses do isn’t for me. So I think I’m going to spend some time seeing more of the world. I mean, I’m only fourteen. I need a little more life experience before I officially make any decisions._

_I love you so much, and I’ll be back in Paris to see you soon. Don’t worry, I’m not travelling alone. Tell Rafael and Angie I’ll make sure Marco does his laundry -- haha! Wish us luck, and can’t wait until we see you all again._

_Oh, and one more thing I wanted to ask you…_

“ _‘Which do you prefer? Star Butterfly-Diaz, or Star Diaz-Butterfly?’_ ” Moon read aloud, making Angie drop her teacup to the floor.

“He _proposed?!”_

“I know, they do seem a bit young--”

“This is the most wonderful news!” The queen raised her eyebrows as both her handmaiden and Rafael grabbed each other’s arms and jumped up and down like schoolchildren.

“Our families, once divided and now united forever!” Rafael sighed happily, hugging wife with one arm while raising his half-finished champagne glass. “ _That_ is something to celebrate.”

Setting the letter down, Moon picked up the Royal Wand that had been returned to her and carefully set it in a velvet lined wooden box before locking it. It would be here for her daughter when she needed it again. Right now, Star wanted to simply be a young woman. And who was she to stop her from living her life to the fullest?

And as for her engagement...well, if she were honest with herself, she couldn’t have picked a better match if she tried. “We will always have each other, my Star. And for you both, this is a perfect beginning,” Moon whispered, blowing a kiss out the window overlooking the river.

 

* * *

 

Miles away on an ocean liner, Marco lifted his future bride up in his arms and spun her around while she laughed to the stars up above. The Princess of Mewni could have had the world--the entire universe, all at her fingertips. But what she wanted was what she had always had to begin with: A passion to discover herself, and the one person who was with her every step of the way.

And as Star drew Marco closer, kissing his lips so deeply that her hearts lit up the night, she knew the journey she had believed was finally over was really only just getting started.

 

_The End_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is my little project I've been working on for 5 months. And by little of course, I mean huge. This entire story was outlined before Season 2 premiered (plus it's an AU) so elements will clash with canon, although you will see little bits of information from this season cameo here and there.
> 
> Kudos are great, but comments are better :)


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